Vertigo
by Feeloves
Summary: Discontinued but being rewritten as 'Fate Rewritten: Vertigo'. Self insert that starts off at Mindoir and carries through.
1. Change

**Edit: 11th February 2012**

**Alas the title summary showed right! This fiction is discontinued. However, worry not for I have actually _rewritten_ this.**

**Go to my profile and look for _Fate Rewritten: Vertigo_**

**I hope you'll enjoy it!**

**Love,**

**Fee**

**xx**

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**Hello all. I have been obsessed with Mass Effect for very long time now and decided to write a fiction based on it. From reading a couple other self-inserted fanfics I realized that I had yet to come across a **_**female**_** OC. Therefore I decided to create one. This is my first story and I have never written in **_**first person **_**and **_**present tense**_** before so do forgive any unintentional mishaps. Criticisms and compliments are both equally welcomed and if mistakes are spotted, do let me know so I can make amends. I hope to learn from this experience and also grow in my writing skills so I would appreciate any help at all.**

**That said, everything aside from OCs belongs to Bioware. Do enjoy and review at the end!**

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A large resounding boom causes the earth underneath me to tremour, startling me awake. The first thought that comes into my head is "why the hell are my contacts on?" The stark contrast between my normal horrifyingly blurry 625-600 vision and ability to see more than just blobs of colour is very evident the moment I open my eyes. I never sleep with my contacts on, even after an entire night of clubbing, smoking and drinking I have never once returned home to bed without removing those vile vision-correcting plastics lenses. So why do I have perfect vision now?

Another loud boom, almost like an explosion, abruptly ends my questioning. It takes me a total of five seconds before I realize that I am no longer under the covers of my four-poster bed, nor am I in a place that I remotely recognize. I look around and cannot help but stare in awe at the barren- almost decimated land around me. Patches of grass that I know probably once made a lush green meadow, now barely discernible from the burnt bits of black that scatter at the wind's command. For as far as the eye can see there is nothing but haze and soot. The air is pungent and polluted with the smell of the thick suffocating smoke. I choke slightly for breath, my eyes watering as I try to force my body to get used to the bad air conditions.

Where on earth am I?

I clench my fist experimentally, something feels… off. Like I am slowly waking up from a very deep sleep. Was I drugged? I hastily look around, deciding that there has to be someone around here somewhere that can offer me some form of explanation. Anyone at all would be a welcomed sight at this moment really. As I get up an intense, sharp pain shoots up my right side, causing me to stagger and fall back onto my knees. Glancing down in horror I can see blood oozing out of my white sleeping singlet, dripping onto my shorts and down my bare legs. Great, just great. Wounds aren't suppose to hurt in dreams… Right? Well this one hurt, _a lot. _Pressing my left hand over the wound I try to stifle my groans of pain. I had taken enough first aid lessons to know that the amount of blood pouring out of the wound is _not _a good sign and I have to get it covered, and fast. Disregarding any fleeting thoughts of modesty I slowly and carefully remove my top, the whole time thankful that I had chosen this one night to wear my sports bra to bed, and unskillfully tie the now-red cloth around my waist, gasping in pain as I tighten it as much as I can. I didn't even bother looking at the wound because I have a feeling the pain would only get worse.

At the rate this is going, I am going to need help – and fast.

Ignoring the tears that stung my eyes I force my body to comply to my demands. Survival first, questions later. Breath hitching, I get onto my bare feet and slowly stumble towards the direction where most of the smoke is coming from. It was likely that a village had caught on fire, or a forest, but hopefully there would be other survivors that can tell me what the hell had happened to me, or help.

It quickly transpires to be a slow and tedious journey, my wound causing me to stumble more times than I dare count. The pain is fierce, like a constant burn that intensifies with every movement I make. It feels like that time when I brushed against my car's exhaust pipe, only a thousand times worse. My singlet proved to be little help as a bandage and my pink sleeping shorts was quick to turn red as well. I can't feel my feet, probably due to the adrenaline rush but from the bloody footprints that I left behind I know that my unprotected soles are taking quite a bit of abuse. My only little bit of relief rose when a village, albeit a burning one, came into view.

As I enter the village the first thing that hits me is the smell; strong, deathly and pungent. The putrid air reeks of decay and burning flesh. I struggle to control the urge to empty out my already tender stomach. Forcing myself to breathe through my mouth instead, it takes me a couple more steps before I register the source of the foul stench. In a square surrounded by burning buildings I see an entire pile of what looks like human bodies that had been shoved atop one another. My hand rises to my mouth in horror. Oh God… What sort of messed up nightmare is this? The assault to my senses is like nothing I have ever been through before, the way the skin of the corpses bubbled and burnt black is enough for me to lose what little composure I had and whatever was left of yesterday's dinner came rushing back out onto the floor next to me.

To my further horror the sound of ripping flesh quickly became quite astute. My gaze shifts from the burning pile of bodies to the large dog-resembling creatures that are feeding next to it. I count four of them, four huge alien-looking animals with large soulless eyes tearing off parts of the bodies to consume at their leisure. I freeze, my eyes following the way their massive teeth dig easily into the human body, ripping large chunks of meat at a time and swallowing limbs whole. And then one of them lifts its head in the air and sniffs, before turning its head towards me.

My heart quite literally stops.

I get back onto my feet slowly, not realizing that I had fallen to them when I vomited. The beast growls and its pack stops fighting over their food and instead turn their attention to me.

"Good doggies. There, there, just go back to your food…" I mutter in what I hoped to be a soothing voice. But somehow the trembling undertone takes that desired effect away. It seems like they preferred a fresh kill to charred corpses for my only response was another growl and the creatures taking slow, but steady steps closer.

Back home, I was, _am_ a proud owner of three large, beautiful dogs; an Alaskan Malamute called Bruno, a German Sheppard called Rex and a Rottweiler called Max. I spent enough time wrestling with those three brutes to learn that a twitch of the back leg muscles was all the warning I was going to get before they pounced onto me. I have a feeling that it isn't any different with these four creatures. With a roar from who I assume is the leader of the pack, the four animals lunge at me as one.

Damn, for once I hate being proven right.

With a yelp escaping me, I dive towards my right and out of harms way, doing a sort of weird tumbling role that I have never managed to do before. It seems that being placed in a life and death situation has given my body an excuse to actually work right for once. Struggling to my feet I quickly search for a place to hide as the creatures readily bound up behind me.

This was quickly becoming one of the most fucked up nightmares I have ever had, and that includes the time where my own mother was trying to kill me with a goldfish.

Picking up the pace I push my muscles to the furthest extent that they would go. I can quite literally feel the monsters snapping at my heels as they miss me by inches, saliva whipping out of their mouths and onto my legs. Out of sheer bad luck my foot gets caught on one of the million random rocks that I have been trying my best to avoid and the floor comes crashing up towards my face. My vision explodes in a flurry of stars and white spots and I can hear the rest of my body following suit with a sickening thud.

There is a shout, what sounds like gunfire, roars and then- nothing.

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"She's coming round." A voice calls out. A female voice- American by the sound of it.

"I still say we should have left her to die." A boy this time, a little gruff from what seems like the lack of use.

"There has been enough death already, don't you think we should try to prevent anymore from happening." Good logic, I haven't opened my eyes yet but I'm already starting to like this girl. "Plus, she's so young… Doesn't seem like she's from around here… Look at what she was wearing."

Not from around here…? And where exactly is here?

"Still… This will deplete our resources even more. We have to survive Jane, not take on orphans."

There is a long silence before the girl spoke up in an almost heart-breaking manner, "we're all orphans now Owen."

A moan escapes me before I could stifle it, ending the conversation as one of the two walks towards my direction. My head feels like it is being slammed repeatedly by an infinite number of hammers, my injured side burns like nothing else and there is an invisible claw stuck down my throat. The room sways dramatically as I try my best to sit up.

"Hey now take it easy." The girl from before says as she uses her left hand to assist me up. Slowly, I coax my eyes open to a rather pretty face. The stranger is definitely American and looks to be around 17 but it is hard to tell for sure in the dim lighting. She has long red hair that she tied up in a scruffy ponytail and the greenest eyes I have ever seen. It takes me about a millisecond to crush down the age-old envy of coloured eyes. Damn Asian characteristics, not that I'm complaining but still, those eyes do look extremely lovely. The said girl then hands me a cup of water that I drain in a couple of seconds before handing it back to her.

"Thanks." I say in relief, the claw disappearing for now. "Who are you? Where am I? What happened?" Questions flying out of my mouth before I could stop them.

There is a clang towards the corner of the dark room, drawing my attention to the other occupant of the area. Shit- is that a gun he has in his hand? And is that said gun pointing towards my face?

Great, out of the pot and straight into the frying pan, or however that saying goes.

"I don't think you're at the liberty of asking questions here." I gulp as my eyes train towards the barrel of the gun. The holder is slightly older than the girl. Perhaps twenty? He has dusky blonde hair and eyes as green as the girl's. In fact, it seems like they also have the same mouth and nose. Siblings maybe? But they were definitely related. "You should be thankful we saved you from those Varren-" Varren… why does that word sound so damn familiar? "-perhaps we should be the ones asking you those questions." He steps even closer. "Who are you? We have never seen you here before and this is a small colony so what are you doing here?"

Maybe it was the look of absolute confusion that I am sure was coating my face at that moment but the girl, Thank Lord, quickly steps forward and places her hand atop of the boy's arm, gently but firmly pushing on him so that he aims his gun elsewhere. The boy shoots her a look of anger before huffing and holstering his gun.

"You're being too cautious O. Can't you see that the girl's confused. Look at the state she's in, she's probably a slave that has managed to escape the batarians-" again with the words that are startlingly familiar. Batarians… Varrens… Colonies? "-either way, did you see her face? It's like she has never seen a gun before."

It is there, like an itch at the back of my mind, like a question that I know the answer to but just cannot seem to find the right words for it just yet. "Please…" I myself was quite surprised at the wariness that coated my words. "Tell me this all just a dream… Where am I? Who are you people? I- I just want to go home."

Home. Home is my parents and two older brothers. Home is my three dogs and four cats and a whole bunch of fishes. Home is warm and painless and easy where I only have to worry about homework and boys and not large scary monsters trying to eat me or the sight of burning bodies. Home is a hot shower, clean clothing and my soft comfortable bed. And sleep, oh glorious sleep.

The girl shoots me a look of sympathy mixed with a case of 'I know how you feel'. She turns to me and says softly, "My name is Jane Shepard and this is my cousin Owen Shepard." She gestures to the now sulking boy standing next to her. You can see the way they acted with each other that she was the alpha of this pack. This intrigues me greatly as to what sort of girl this Jane is. "You are currently on a human colony called Mindoir that have recently just been attacked by batarian slavers. We…" she hesitates, as though she isn't sure if she should divulge anymore information than she already has, but decides to continue anyway. Clearing her throat she continues. "O and I was searching for food when we saw the varren chasing after you. We saw you trip and fall and decided to save you. You were unconscious so we decided to bring you here, wrap you up the best way we knew how and... Here we are now." She ends with a shrug.

Jane… Shepard, from a human colony called Mindoir, which is currently being raided by batarian slavers and there are packs of varren everywhere… Hell. My eyes widened in realization as it dawns upon me that this is either one crazy ass dream or I have gone insane but… somehow I have managed to land my ass in the middle of a real-life Mass Effect remake.

Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.

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**So how was that for a first time? Again, criticism is welcomed. In fact, encouraged. I've already begun to write the next chapter so that should be up sometime soon. Do subscribe, read, and review please!**

**Signing out for now,**

**Fee.**

**xx**


	2. Fight

**Hello again and welcome back.**

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Kansas doesn't even come close.

Heavy gunfire thuds against the wooden crate that separates me from a certain death. My meager cover shakes and groans from the assault and I know that I have to find a new shield soon if I want to survive this onslaught.

The gun in my hand shakes in trepidation but I force myself to take deep breaths. I would do no good to anybody, especially me, dead. And dead is what happens to those that panic during a fight.

Beside me there are two others seeking shelter from various inanimate objects. There is Owen, ducking behind a large metal canister with what he called an assault rifle in his well-trained hands, seeking out opportunities to leave cover and return fire. And then there is Jane.

There are little words to describe the majestic way Jane fought. If I didn't know any better I would have thought that she comes from a background of fighters, and not farmers. With her lips set in a grim line and her _gorgeous_ green eyes flashing with determination, she is a force to behold and a sight to treasure. Despite hating, _hating_ all forms of confrontation there is a certain beauty in the way Jane moved, hurdled and retaliated that made it difficult to tear your eyes away.

Then again, why should this surprise me? She is after all _the _Shepard – Saviour of the Citadel, killer of Saren, destructor of the Collectors, etc. Still, watching her perform in reality is all together different from what can be seen behind a computer screen. The past month of practice had definitely brought out her raw and true talent.

All three of us are armed in a variety of weapons that we managed to pick up along the way. In my own grasp is a fairly simple handgun that is sufficient enough in power and offers little recoil. We decided that it was the best choice for someone who had _no experience_ with guns (or any other form of violence) at all. Even though Owen claimed it was the lightest and easiest to use, until now the gun still feels heavy and foreign in my thin hands. Jane however opted on a shotgun and something called a _hand cannon_. It looks like a slightly larger version of my own gun but definitely packs a bigger punch.

A week has passed since the Shepards found me - half dead and unconscious in the hands, no, _jaws_ of a pack of varren. Upon waking I was given the largest shock of my life; that somehow I managed to wind up in the world of Mass Effect.

Now let me explain a few things.

Although I had often fantasized about the glories of fighting by Sheparrd's side when I was indulging in what I thought was the _best third person shooter of all time_ I never thought all this was even possible. To be fighting by her seventeen year old side before she even understands her true potential is a mind blower. After waking up and about 30 minutes of face-in-palms disbelief later I realized that I had no choice but to wing it, there has to be a reason _why_ I'm going through this bizarre experience. Maybe if I died I would end up right back to my own world, my own bed, but that is a theory I did not want to test. So until I find the answers to my questions, I will have to do my best survive.

And it helped to discover I am actually a rather good shot.

"_When you're taking a photograph, you have to breathe out. If you hold your breath, your hands will shake. Breathing out gives you the stability to be accurate." _The voice of my high school photography teacher resounds in my head. Perhaps it isn't wise to apply the same lessons to both photography and shooting. But it hasn't failed me so far. There is a break in the rain of gunfire and the clatter of equipment being reloaded. Taking the opportunity, Jane, Owen and I lean over our covers to return fire on the attacking batarian slavers. At the beginning the sight of the six-eyed aliens scared the living bejeesus out of me. Fortunately I had time after that particular experience to go over my ME knowledge to prepare myself for the different aliens I would most likely encounter in the future. Still, the way all six eyes blinked at the same time was far more irking than anything I've ever seen. But after a week of running and shooting a number of them to death- _I don't even want to think about the first time I killed an alien_- I overcame that discomfort quite quickly

I tell myself to think of it as a dream. A long, really bad, really really horrifying dream.

Bringing my thoughts back to the present. _Exhale, and shoot. One down, about seven more to go._ Jane brings down two other batarians while Owen manages to take out one. _Just four more left. Remember, breathe in, exhale, shoot. _There are shouts of rage as their comrades fall down around them, and the remaining four began to fire at us once again. My cover gives out the smallest creak of protest, almost like a dying breath before it explodes around me. Yelping in surprise I do a barrel roll and hit a brick wall to my right. I quickly duck next to Jane, panting from the exertion. Damn, now I'm going to have to spend some time removing those splinters out from my skin.

Jane shoots me a look of concern before returning her attentions to the enemy. Unsurprisingly the female Shepard and I got along very well in the past week. She accepted me as part of their small group quite readily and we became fast friends. Owen however is still a work in progress, although he is starting to begrudgingly admit that I am not as much as a burden as he originally thought I would be.

Score for me I suppose.

"Status!" Jane barks. Her cousin bends further into his cover and takes out a small walkie-talkie resembling device. From the little that I could understand it was something that Owen had tinkered with to sync with the Alliance's frequency. Or however it worked at this day and age.

"ETA, 20 minutes."

Jane grits her teeth in frustration as she peeks over her cover for a millisecond. She sighs. "It feels like we have been in this same spot for ages. They haven't been so incessant about pining us down before, what changed?"

The 20-year old frowns, "maybe they're getting desperate? Maybe they know that the help is coming and they want to round up as much of us as possible before heading off?"

"Risky though, especially with the timings so close… Maybe they don't know? Or at least not for sure?"

"It's possible, although doubtful." He hesitates, glancing over his shoulder before gesturing towards the other end of this make shift battlefield. "Heads up, we have reinforcements."

At the enemy's side twenty other batarians joins their mostly fallen crew. I start to sweat a little more due to the nerves; we have never come across such a large group of them at one go before. Twenty-four versus three, the odds are most definitely _not_ in our favour.

"Goddammit." Jane swears, wiping the sweat off her brow using the back of her hand, and then tightening her grip on her weapon. "Okay, we only need to hold out for a little more than twenty minutes. We've managed to survive this together for a whole week. Twenty minutes will be nothing."

I nod at her words, saying nothing throughout their interaction. Being the newbie there is little I can offer that they didn't already know so I prefer to just listen to their advice and do the best that I can. My own grip tightens to an extent where it becomes almost painful. Just another twenty minutes. After a week in hell, this should be easy.

Two minutes later I am swallowing my own words. When the _hell_ is anything ever easy? For you see, they decided to bring out the big guns. And I mean really, _really_ big guns.

And then everything goes to hell.

There is a silence and then a high pitch noise, like something is being powered up. I watch, confused as Jane's eyes steadily widen in horror. It is so different from the usual calm and calculating mask she normally has on that it caused a sinking feeling in my gut and I know something horrible is about to happen.

Several things then occur at once. Jane immediately breaks cover and sprints towards her cousin. Caught in the surprise I lean over to provide her with as much distraction as I can, scattering gunfire towards the general direction of the enemy. My heart constricts painfully as I watch one of the batarians let loose a rocket from the large launcher he is holding at Owen. Time slows down as the projectile hits the canister that O is hiding behind, causing a large explosion and flinging him across the area, body alight in such a way that just didn't seem natural. A rain of fire shower down upon us and without looking I know he is gone, assault rifle flying and clattering to a stop at my feet.

Jane looks defeated, numb in horror as she sinks down to her knees, mouth open in disbelief. I know my expression rivals hers. The fight is over. Neither of us having the will to even make a noise of protest as the batarians come over, forcefully grabbing us by our arms, hauling us towards them. The shock of losing Owen is just too much. For the past week we grew to believe that we were powerful and almost unstoppable for we never failed. We took each victory too much to heart and this is what we get in return. Our mortalities slapping us in the face.

Oh Owen…

The batarians show no remorse and force us on our knees, removing the weapons from our grips as they cackle ad laugh in some foreign language that I didn't care to pay attention to.

I steal a glance at my friend. Tears streaming silently down her dirt-covered face. None of us could afford a shower in such conditions and I'm sure that we smell worse than we look, but none of that matters now. The broken and defeated look in her eyes feels extremely foreign on her. I want to shake her and tell her to wake up, that our battle wasn't over yet. But she just lost her best friend, a brother figure, and for someone who had already lost everything this was probably the last straw.

I shoot a hard glare at our captors, now jeering at us and nudging us with the butt of their guns. It seems like they are waiting for something, transportation perhaps? One batarian gestures at Jane, laughing and pats his crotch in a foul manner. The rest nod in agreement, large grins stretching across their ugly faces as they shove her to the ground. Again, laughing at the way she did nothing to defend herself. It did not take a genius to realize what was going to happen next as one particular batarians began to strip off his pants.

I nearly choke in terror.

No no no no no. This isn't the way things are supposed to go. We're supposed to all survive this, meet the Alliance army, get famous, save the Citadel, and then save the galaxy. Or at least, Jane is. No one mentioned rapes or deaths or what Shepard had to go through in the past. Not once in the game did she even show a hint of weaknesses and yet here she lies, about to get defiled in the worst way possible without a hint of defiance. I hate reality for being so damn literal, for everything to suck so much.

The batarians rips her shirt off and I knew I had to act fast. Scrambling from my position I pull out a hidden knife I had strapped around my waist. Following instincts and allowing my natural hatred and disgust for rapists as well as the fury from the deaths they had brought upon the peaceful people of Mindoir. _'Oh Owen…' _ I stabbed the pants-less batarians straight in his goods, causing a spray of blood and a bellow of agony to erupt from the said alien. He falls on his back, clutching his wound as he cries in pain.

"That's for Owen." I spat.

I had acted too fast for the rest of the monsters to respond but they were on me as soon as the shock wore off. There was nothing else I could do but slash, bite and scratch at the enemies. In terms of being realistic, this is me; a young seventeen inexperienced _skinny ass _girl armed with only a knife against over twenty large, muscular batarians slavers. The first hit came in the form of a rifle butt to the face, causing me to fall back as a flurry of stars flood my vision. Several kicks, punches and hits follow soon after. There is a sick crunch of my right leg snapping into half followed by the most agonizing pain in my life. A square punch to the face causes another sickly snap and I know my nose would never be the same again. Blood invades my vision as the beatings continue, rage and helplessness overwhelms me. I didn't know how long the torture went on for but I felt relieved as my vision began to bleed into black for the second time in a week.

There is a flash of bright blue and then the pain went away as I welcomed the darkness of death.

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**Enjoyed it? Hated it? Let me know why or how I could improve. I know I skipped quite a lot between what happened last chapter and this one but I really just wanted to get into the actual story of everything else. Perhaps I'm being too impatient but do bear with me, I think it'll get better from here. Also, the almost-raping scene. Too much? I love hearing from my readers to do tell.**

**More character development coming up next chapter! **

**That's all for now,**

**Xx**

**Fee**


	3. Awakening

**Back again. =] Part 3!**

**Bioware is God.**

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"Jane!"

The name tears from my throat as I sit up with a gasp, eyelids fluttering against the burning sensation of too-dried eyes. It takes awhile before my vision clears and I realize that I am sitting on a medical bed, the unmistakable antiseptic scent of medicine hitting my sensitive nose. The dramatic change in scenery from the battlefield to this clinic makes me slightly uneasy, although not unhappy.

A moan draws my attention away from the three different IV tubes that are connected to my left arm and towards the bed on my far right where a sprawled figurine with red hair lay unconscious.

"Jane…" I mutter. What happened? Are we with the Alliance now? I frown as I experimentally tighten my fists. My body seems to be working okay, despite of the beating I had taken.

"Ah… I see you're awake." I turn to see a woman about early-thirty's with dark brown hair enter the room. "Sorry, I had to step out for a moment to report to the Captain. I'm actually rather surprised to see you awake so soon." The woman has an air of elegance around her, not the type you would see in an aristocrat but definitely along the 'old-wise-woman' vibe. Actually, she looks rather familiar…

"I'm Dr Chakwas and you are currently aboard the SSV Hastings." Then it hits me- it is the doctor from the Normandy ship! Or was, or will be. Damn, these things are going to confuse me. Never thought Chakwas would be a brunette. "How are you feeling?" She asks as she checks the monitors next to me.

"What happened?" I wince at my abrupt question, realizing that I had blatantly ignored hers.

The doctor smiles a warm, kind smile that dispels my uneasiness almost immediately. This must be why she was_, is, will be,_ labeled such a great doctor. She seems to have the ability to diffuse any tense situation; an ability that I'm sure comes in handy when dealing with battered and wounded soldiers. "You were actually quite lucky. I'm not too sure of the details but it seems like by the time we got there your friend here," she shoots a sympathetic glance at the prone body of Jane's "had taken care of most of the slavers. She was in quite a delirious state, attacking our soldiers whenever they tried to approach either of you, but in the end we managed to knock her out and get to you."

_Jane… _The last I remember was her unmoving body at the corner of my eye as I passed out. What happened between then and the arrival of the Alliance soldiers?

It hits me like a ton of bricks, the blue light! I remember seeing a blue light just before everything went dark. Jane never showed any signs of being a biotic before, could this event lead to the rise of her latent ability? In my head I do a little jig, although the circumstances were not pleasant at least we have a biotic Shepard in our hands. I am curious to see if she ends up an Adept or Vanguard, although I pray for the latter. Vanguards were always my favourite class when playing Mass Effect. I smile softly, "that's Jane for you, always so protective."

Dr Chakwas nods, "moving on to more pressing issues; from your skin and eyes I can tell you are not originally from Mindoir so I can only assume that the batarians took you from somewhere else. You are also not in our Earth or Citadel database, how did you end up there?"

I freeze, a deep fear gnaws at my gut. The Shepards had both readily accepted me as a run-away slave and there was just no time then for further questioning. Would the same lie work here? Honesty is always the best policy but to how large an extent should I be honest? I hesitate, allowing the natural fear and nervousness to arise. Back home I was able to lie and act my way out of almost anything. Being a drama student I knew how to use my emotions as a baseline for deception because the best lies stem from truths, and I only hope that that would work in this situation. There is no way am I going to be able to tell her the whole truth without being tossed into an asylum for the insane. "T-to be honest, I really have no idea." Which is true, I glance away from her all-seeing eyes and to the whitewashed blanket that covered my body from hips down. "All I remember is waking up in the middle of a field, then being chased down by Varren and the Shepards saving me. I didn't even know where I was until Jane told me. Everything before the moment I woke up is a blank."

There is a tense silence. _Please believe me, please believe me, please-_

"So you don't remember anything? Anything at all? About your family or where you are from?"

_Of course I do. But they're gone now. _My body hunches over as silent tears trail down my face. I reach up to wipe them away, surprised at the liquid found on my fingertips. Why am I crying?

The good doctor took this as a sign to stop and places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "It's okay. Don't worry. Even if you don't have a past, at least now you have a future."

"A future huh…?" I whisper to myself, staring at the already evaporating tears on my fingers, doubt and uncertainty filling me on the inside. Is this really going to be my future? It has been a week, or more, depending on how long I have been unconscious, since I've left my home. Does this mean there is no going back? That I'm in this through to the end?

I sigh in resignation and close my eyes as Dr Chakwas leaves me to my contemplative silence to check up on Jane. I suppose I don't have a choice; as long as I'm stuck here I my as well make it count.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sounds of the automatic metal doors opening and shutting soon afterwards. I once again find myself staring into another familiar face. "Captain Belliard, Lieutenant Anderson." salutes Chakwas. _Lieutenant?_ Right. The familiar 'Captain' title has yet to be attached to his name it seems. The younger version of the original Normandy's Captain resembles his character in the game so much that, like Chakwas, it is almost astounding. The only clear difference is his relaxed posture and the almost mischievous twinkle in his eyes. I always liked Anderson's character in the game; I have a feeling that I wouldn't feel any different here.

"At ease doctor." replies a deep, husky voice. I tear my attention away from the Captain- _Lieutenant _to focus on the words of the only real stranger in the room. 'Captain Belliard' was what Dr Chakwas called him. To be honest, I cannot remember that name ever coming up in the game. Then again, I didn't really pay much attention to what else was going on and instead focused purely on the main storyline. Now I regret not succumbing to the urge of replaying Mass Effect 1. "So our guests are awake."

I try to ignore the weight of the stares of the adults in the room. The brunette doctor picks up two charts and hands them to him. "Guest." She corrects him, gesturing to the still-unconscious Jane. I take the opportunity to study the Captain as he flips through our charts. He has the typical broad-shouldered, back-straight look of an authoritative figure that I know Anderson would later adopt. Rather old to be a captain in my humble opinion for he looks to be in his 50s. Then again, age is just a number and wisdom comes with age anyway. Slightly pale, with dark brown eyes and brown hair that is graying a little. He has an almost grandfather-like feel in the way he talks and stands- A very proud grandfather. In fact, he greatly reminds me of Admiral William Adama from Battlestar Galactica.

"A biotic huh…? Without implants as well. Probably overexposure to Eezo?" the familiar voice of deep Keith David nearly made me smile. I would have been so disappointed if the voice changed. The Captain shoots him a warning look and he stops talking immediately. I have to bite my lower lip to stop myself from laughing. Belliard glances across the room at Jane for a moment before returning his attention to me.

"How are you feeling? Have you been informed of the recent events?" his warm words soothes my frazzled nerves. Quite a pair this two makes, Belliard and Chakwas. Together they could probably break through any enemy with words alone. I nod, unsure what else to say. "Good. We have much to discuss." I swallow hard. "We will be arriving at the Citadel in 3 days. As soon as your friend awakens we will plan our next course of action. You are of the legal age I take it?"

The legal age? It depends _what _the legal age is in this world. I shake my head anyway, "seventeen this year." I hastily add. "Sir."

The Captains stops short, before sighing. "Seventeen huh? You will require a guardian then, at least for another year. What about your friend?"

"Seventeen as well."

He nods slowly. "Alright. What are your names?"

I hesitate. My name? My real name is just going to cause a whole load of confusion around here. "Her name's Jane Shepard. And I- I'm called Skylar."

_Skylar?_ Of all the bloody names in the world the first name that pops into my head had to be 'Skylar'? That was the name I used when I was playing ME- Skylar Shepard had a nice ring to it. But that is going to be a pain of a name to get used to.

"Sky for short. Sky Thrace." Dammit, that isn't an Asian name at all! And even the most blind of bats can see that I am most definitely Asian. Thankfully, the Captain says nothing and nods instead.

"Alright Ms Thrace. We will definitely discuss arrangements to further lengths when your friend regains consciousness. Until then, rest well and try not to over exert yourself. You took quite a beating on Mindoir."

I nod as the two men ready themselves to leave. Right before they exit the door however a question pops into my head. "Wait- Sir." I call out. The man turns slightly to look at me. "On Mindoir, on the colony." I continue with much difficulty. "We were with a third person. A boy around twenty? He- he is Jane's cousin. Did you find him?"

I am not sure if my question made any sense but I feel like it was something I had to ask. Owen deserved to have a proper burial, or at least some form of recognition. I look at the Captain in hope, only to have it crushed as he shakes his head sympathetically. "I wasn't with the ground team. I do not know although- it is highly unlikely that we did. I'm sorry." And with that he walks out the door.

I know he isn't being unkind; he is after all a soldier, someone that suffers the loss of people he cares for almost everyday. Still, I couldn't stop the fresh warm tears from cascading down my face. I barely knew him but the impact of his death is still there. I cannot begin to imagine what Jane must be going through, to not only lose her cousin but her entire family as well.

A warm hand engulfs my arm and I look up at the owner through tear-filled eyes in surprise. It is the Lieutenant. He smiles kindly as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out two silver chains. I let out a small gasp in surprise as I recognize the jewelry. Both of them belonged to Owen, a matching pair that he wore as a necklace and bracelet. Throughout the short time that I knew him he never took them off; it wouldn't be presumptuous to say that these accessories mattered to him. "I was taking the lead for the unit that found you and your friend. She was fiercely protective over the body of the boy as well. There was nothing we could do for him with the time we had but I gathered that he was very important to you both and something, I'm not sure what, prompted me to remove these." He hands me the pair and I cup them gently in my palms. Jane would be ecstatic. I know she has nothing, no trinkets or physical representations of the memories she had on Mindoir. This way, she will carry Owen everywhere she goes. "But I felt like it was the right thing to do."

With my free hand I grabbed Anderson's retreating arm. Resting the jewelry carefully on my lap I cradle both of the man's hands in mine, emotion rushing through every part of me. "Thank you." I say to him, willing him to feel my gratitude through the little contact that we share.

"Thank you." I repeat, before letting his hands go. There is nothing else more I can say.

The Lieutenant smiles gently and mutters "You're welcome", leaving the medical bay with a small wave.

Perhaps my entry to this world was not the most welcoming, or safest. But the people here are truly good; and if there is nothing more for me to hold on to, at least I can hold on to that.

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**'Thrace' and 'Adama' is for the BSG fans. =P**

**Let me know what you think? I'm sort of grasping in the dark here because I'm not sure if what I'm writing is making any sense. I'd like to think I'm an excellent critique but I'm blind when it comes to my own work. **

**I'm also in the midst of writing an original Crime/Action/Romance fic on Fictionpress. If you want to check it out its:  
>http:www(dot)fictionpress(dot)com/s/2962708/1/Tampered_Genes **

**That's it for now. Happy Halloween everybody!**

**xx**


	4. Home

**Hello all. I am back again, sorry this took me so long. I have been insanely busy. November is quite the torture. But anyway, here you go! =]**

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I stare at my reflection in the full-size mirror as I try to discern the underlying difference that I can feel. To a stranger, I won't actually look like I have changed much: same boring brown hair that refuse to curl in the direction I want it to, same boring brown eyes staring back at me. But for someone who has never changed her appearance, unless you count make-up, it feels there is a world of difference. A new faint, but definitely noticeable scar drags along the bridge of my nose, around an inch long. A burn mark around the size of my palm splashes across the back of my neck, halting right below my ear. Dressed in just a sports bra and gym shorts, I can see that the past few weeks of constant edge-of-death exercise toned up muscles in areas I didn't even know I had muscles. I was never a large girl, in fact it was difficult to even think of a person _skinnier_ than I was, and although that hint of fragility can still be seen in my very lean shape, I no longer look like I would break into half when a certain amount of pressure is applied. I run my fingers across the inked words that labeled my left rib and the caligraphied dove on my right hip. Stretching a little, I admire the way my two tattoos compliment my new shape. At least one good thing has come out of this crazy, nonsensical adventure.

And then there is the issue with my eyes. Although every part of me stayed more or less the same, my eyes had somehow miraculously gained perfect 20-20 vision when I woke up in this world. While fighting for my life it didn't really occur to me, but now that the calm has taken over it strikes me as extremely weird that I can actually see without my glasses or contacts on. I edge closer to the mirror, looking left and right to see if there is a difference in the way my eyes move but nothing. I stand back, shrugging, one more thing to add to the list of "Things I Don't Understand And Probably Never Will" I suppose.

The now-familiar swish sounds of the metal auto doors opening startle me into turning around. A familiar red head enters the bathroom with a tired smile. "Hey." She calls out.

I can't help but grin widely as I skip to her, tossing my arms around her. "Jane! You're awake!"

The girl returns my hug weakly before pulling away. I can tell that she has not recovered to her full strength. I step back and give her a one-over, taking in her disheveled and weary appearance. She looks worse than she did when she was unconscious. Black eyes bags frame her now-dull green eyes and her once-beautiful red hair lies limp and flat. Frowning slightly I gently nudge her towards the line of showers at the back of the bathroom. "You smell. I think you need a bath. Plus, I think you will feel better after. When was the last time you had a hot shower anyway?"

She gives me an exasperated look but she doesn't resist my leading the way. I don't think she could even if she wanted to. She walks with a dreaded weakness that looks so pitiful it is rather scary. The maternal side of me roars with discontent at the change that seemed to have taken over her. Where is Jane Shepard – the hero?

I take one of the many wooden stools and place it under the shower-head, before pushing down on her so that she sits on it. She stares at me questioningly but doesn't say a word. I smile despite the tightening in my heart. "You look dead, so I decided to give you a treat and wash you." With that said I turn on the warm water and begin lathering shampoo into her hair. I did this quite often for my best friend back home; it felt almost natural that that sort of affection translates onto Jane.

While busying myself with getting her clean I tell her of the previous two days that she missed out and what I had learnt. I tell her about the sweet Lieutenant who has been keeping me company whenever I grew bored and he was not on duty. I tell her about the three crewmates that I have gotten to know, Yaz (pronounced Jazz), Rowlen and Chris. I tell her about the stern-grandfatherlike Captain that isn't actually as stern as he looks. I tell her about Dr Chakwas and what they know about us.

And then I also tell her about not knowing who I am or where I come from. I tell her that I renamed myself Skylar Thrace because it just _felt right_. Lastly, I tell her about how Anderson found Owen's body and the gifts he passed to me.

I finally run out of things to say and the bathroom is engulfed in a heavy silence aside from the running water. I turn off the taps and grab a bunch of fluffy towels, wrapping them around her and myself. Her skin is warm to touch and her pale skin gained back the soft pink that they once held. I walk over to my bag that I left at the edge of the room to retrieve the two jewelry pieces that belonged to Owen and place them into her hands.

"These belong to you."

Jane doesn't say anything for a long time, clutching the bracelet and necklace tight in her right fist. Then, almost like I didn't see it, a tear falls down her face, and like an old dam that can no longer hold back the weight of the world, she lets out a deep gasp before throwing herself at me with such a sudden force that I stumble backwards and onto the floor. Her arms wrap tightly around my neck as she sobs into my shoulder. The sight of the strong-Jane breaking down and shaking with agony tears my heart wide open. Sure she might just be a character of a game, but I cannot help but feel like we have this strange sisterly-relationship that often results from dealing with extremely difficult situations together. I pat her back gently, cooing into her hair, muttering little words of comfort that I know don't really mean anything.

It took her about 10 minutes before she regained her composure. Sitting back up she blushes slightly in embarrassment at her 'dramatic' scene. She opens her mouth to begin the string of apologies but I shake my head. She stops, nodding in understanding and instead smiles and stands up, pulling me up with her. "Thanks for that… I needed it."

I smile knowingly. "No thanks needed."

A comfortable silence settles between us as we both get dressed. I pull on a pair of skinny Jeans that belonged to one of the crew-members that surprisingly enough, fit snugly and just as I was going to put on the black tank top Jane brushes her fingers across the words that grace my side in curiosity. "What do these mean?"

I stop short. How do I tell her that those words came from my favourite poem, a poem that would probably not even exist in this world? "Fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds' worth of distance run-" A quote taken out of Rudyard Kipling's 'If'. I hesitate, feigning uncertainty. "I really am not sure… I don't even remember when, where or how I got them."

Jane shoots me a look of doubt, but doesn't ask any more questions. I quickly put on the borrowed top and collect all my stuff together. "We should go see the Captain. He did say he wanted to talk to us when you wake."

The redhead nods, eyes flashing with determination. It is a beautiful transformation to witness, how she overcomes her weaknesses so readily, seemingly so easily. It is almost like the Jane I know is coming back.

"Let's go then." But just as we step outside the door she stops and turns to me, smiling. "Skylar Thrace huh? I guess that is better than 'Brownie'-" which was what Owen took to call me because of my brown hair and eyes. "And I think it suits you, Sky."

I grin and shake my head in affection. Before nudging her out the door.

_################################################_

"So you are only sixteen?"

"Seventeen in April Sir."

We have been sitting in what looks like a briefing room for the past hour, answering questions that the Captain Adama-look alike deemed to ask. The room has a futuristic (then again, everything here looks futuristic to me) feel, metal meet marble floors with a large oval-shaped table in the middle. At the back of the room is a large panel of one-way glass that allows us to see onto the CIC below where many of the crew scurries about. Jane and I are sitting next to each other, facing the Captain who sits diagonal to us. At the door stands my favourite Lieutenant who although wears a look of nonchalance I know is listening very carefully to our conversation. It comes as quite a surprise to know that Jane is slightly younger than me, I guess that is because when I played Mass Effect she looked at be around 25 to 30? Damn, I have another 12 years to go, give or take, before the events of Mass Effect 1 begins?

"When exactly is your birthday?" The Captain asks, before correcting himself "-are your birthdays?" addressing the same question to me as well.

"April the 11th."

"January the 18th"."

The old man nods and writes this down on a piece of what looks like a form in front of him. "And then there is the issue about you being a biotic." He raises an eyebrow at Shepard. "Have you ever showed any signs of biotic ability?"

He received a negative reply from Jane, "To be honest, it caught me by surprised. I remember becoming very, very angry, and all of a sudden there was this sort of blue force pulsating from me, then everyone was on the floor."

"Have you had any known exposure to the Element Zero?"

She nods, "Yes, my mother was exposed to it during her gestation period. Also, about two and a half years ago illegal traders were caught smuggling Eezo onto Mindoir. The battle resulted in the explosion of several crates and I was unlucky enough to be nearby to feel the effects.

Anderson shoots her a look of surprise. "Exposure twice? It is a wonder that you survived… And that it took this long for them to appear."

"Not necessarily." The Captain says, shaking his head. "It takes quite a stressful or emotionally traumatic situation to release one's biotic powers for the first time, especially without implants. This was as good as any." He stands up and strolls towards the glass panel, looking out towards the CIC. "Talking about implants… You are going to require them if you are going to make use of your new biotic powers, or if you want to control them." He frowns, "unfortunately, there has been reports that the L2s have proved to be too dangerous and has many adverse effects."

"What about L3s Captain? I hear that they are very close to making a breakthrough."

"Those probably won't be manufactured until next year soonest. Can we let an untrained biotic run around until then?"

I glance over at Jane. She had her hands clasped together with a contemplative look on her face. I wonder what are her opinions of the conversation going on between Belliard and Anderson. I realize that it might be a relatively new concept to her, being a biotic. I try to imagine what it is like being in her shoes where just a month ago she was just another colonist, another regular farmer's daughter; she doesn't know what she has coming for her and she doesn't know that she will be the one standing between the rest of the world and the destruction of all things living. I guess my only job is to ensure that she doesn't fail at the best that I can, but where does that leave me? In a few years, Jane would join the System Alliance, and a few more years after that, graduate from N7, the most prestigious Special Forces group in the military. I could try to follow in her footsteps, be at her side every step of the way, but I know I do not have the drive or ability to last through the N7 training. Furthermore, Jane will either save Elysium, survive Akuze, or become 'Ruthless'- as stated by the game. Unfortunately, I never chose to go down that route so I didn't pay much attention to the details of a Renegade Shepard. I shiver slightly at the thought of a red-eyed, scarred Shepard. I hope she doesn't go down that road, I really really do. But nevertheless, whatever path she chooses I don't think it is a wise idea if I interfere. Bad things always happen when you interfere with the future.

After a few more moments of discussion Anderson goes quiet. "I can train them. I can take them in."

There is a pregnant pause where Belliard stares at his XO. "I never took you to a family man Anderson." For some reason, those words seem to hold a deeper, underlying meaning.

The Lieutenant is too dignified of a person to blush in front of his commanding officer so instead he clears his throat. "It wouldn't so much be a 'family'. These two require a guardian for about another year before they can decide what they want to do. And if they would let me-" he smiles at us "I would gladly offer them a place of peace for a while."

To be honest, I am in a little bit of shock with the turn of events. I knew that Shepard and Anderson were close but I didn't realize that he was the one that took her in after Mindoir. Then again, it sort of made sense. They had a very strong relationship (or at least when I made her a Paragon) so why wouldn't they be father and daughter, in the slightest sense of the word?

"For me, personally, that would be the greatest honor Lieutenant." I say to him, returning his smile. I grew to really like the man during the past two days and he was a great character in the game, so why not? He was obviously trustworthy, intelligent and strong. Perhaps with his training I could join the military as well? Then I turn to Jane, "what do you think?"

She looks at me, cocking her head slightly to the side as though trying to figure something out. She hesitates before answering. "Unfortunately I do not know you as well as Sky does… And I am slightly uncomfortable with allowing a stranger to become my guardian. Could I be given a little time to think about this?"

Just then there is a cackle over the com before the deep male voice echoes throughout the room. "Docking at Citadel in about 10 minutes Captain, you might want to enjoy the view. The Ascension is here."

"Understood Mikey." Belliard stands up, sighing, before nodding his head. "Alright. As you heard we are landing in a few minutes. Since neither of you have ever seen the Citadel from space before, I suggest that you go take a look. It is quite a sight, the pride of the Council. We can settle this after we dock."

I reach over to grasp Jane's hand and give it a squeeze. "Let's go." With a nod we both stood up and saluted to both the Captain and Lieutenant before leaving the briefing room, heading down the stairs to the CIC where the view was the best.

I have seen this sight a million times before, but never has it been so prominent. The Citadel is _massive_ and even more impressive is the dreadnought that hovers before it. The Destiny Ascension I believe it is called. Several gasps of admiration and shock can be heard from the younger crew and even then the gleam of pride shines through the eyes of those who have seen the Council ship before.

I give Jane's hand another squeeze and she returns it, our intertwined fingers clasp tightly around each other's hands as we look onto the Citadel, our new home.

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**How was it? Let me know. =]**

**Ooh, I also have passed the 10k mark and we're only on Chapter 4. I feel very proud of myself. And yes, I know its the quality not the quantity, but hey we have to celebrate the little things in life right?**

**Hopefully the next installment won't take so long. Thanks for reading!**

**xx**


	5. CSec

**This is quite a surprise. I am back, again! Haha, a special treat because I am procrastinating from my homework and millions of test next week. Sigh.**

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"Again."

I rear my right leg up, doing a spin and executing a perfect high reverse roundhouse to my opponent's face. He dodges gracefully by turning his head and taking a step back. Using my momentum I allow the swing to follow through and drop to the ground, trying to trip him, but instead he jumps over my leg and delivers a solid kick to my chest. My arms spring up instinctively; blocking majority of the blow but the force causes me to stumble back and onto the ground. I do a half tumble-roll, half backflip to land on my feet again, glaring at the man who stands before me.

He shakes his head, not happy with my performance. "Again."

My breaths come out in gasps as I struggle to not be overcome by my weariness. In front of me my 'instructor' barely even looks winded. Every part of his impeccable uniform is still in place and in comparison to my sweaty and dirt-covered appearance; he looks like he just finished a casual stroll in the park.

I take a few more deep breaths to calm myself down. It is seven in the morning and I am tired and cranky, we have been fighting for almost two hours. I hate being pulled out of a very good sleep, especially for an impromptu sparing session. I stretch my arms out and crack my neck before settling into a more traditional martial arts pose with my two hands up in fists and my legs apart. My teacher raises an eyebrow at my change of stance.

I didn't give him a change to think about it and sprinted towards him. I feign a right roundhouse but as his arm comes up to block it I use the slight resistance to carry through with a left turning kick, striking him on his shoulder. He lets out a grunt at the unexpected pressure as he is pushed slightly to the right. I take a minute step back and do a back-thrust, which he blocks, followed by a reverse-swing straight to his face. Taken by surprise the he takes the kick full on, head snapping back with impact of my sole smacking him in the face. My reverse-swings have never been particularly powerful, but inside I still celebrate with glee for having even _hit_ him, which I have never been able to do before.

A step back and a full tackle cause my eyes to widen in surprise, abruptly ending my celebrations as I slam to the ground with the full weight of him above me. Grunting in pain I struggle greatly against his weight before letting out a big sigh and relaxing, giving up. There is no way I can escape his locks, especially with the fact that he weighs twice my size.

Standing up he grins as he offers me a hand, which I gratefully take. "Good. You have improved." He massages his right check. "Took me by surprise that one. Where did you learn that?"

I blush slightly. At the moment of desperation I had changed to the less commonly known Taekwondo styled attacks. I learnt it during the self-defense classes I took when I was around 14. It came quite naturally to try to use something that he has never seen before.

"Moment of inspiration" I reply.

He nods and ruffles my already-messy hair proudly. "First time you hit me. Feel good?"

I laugh and grab the two bottles of water on the side of the room and throw one at him, which he readily catches. We both sit down on one of the wooden benches. "Feels amazing."

He takes a long drink from his bottle before closing the cap and leaning with his back against the wooden walls. I know what that means. It was his 'deep-meaningful-conversation' posture, or DMC for short. "So… It is almost the end of the year."

"So what?" I say, shrugging.

"You have been here for what? Nine months?"

I shake my head. Has it really been that long? Ten months since I arrived to this strange world, ten months since I have seen my family. Nine since we arrived in Citadel. It was odd to think about how everything I considered to be part of a game, to be a fictional made-up story has now become my reality. I have stopped taking this place to be a separate world a long time ago because when you _live through it_, it changes you, your perception of it. Now, it is daily life to do web searches through a datapad instead of a laptop; to press the green pad in the middle of a door for it to mechanically swish open; to see all the different alien life-forms walking around Citadel; to use an omni-tool which is probably one of the coolest inventions I have ever seen.

I look at my instructor, Lieutenant Anderson. I knew his face from even before I met him, heard his voice a million times over before he ever spoke to me. And yet I no longer thought of him as a character made by Bioware, instead he has become one of the people I hold closest to my heart, an uncle-figure that I see to be as real as myself.

"That is insane… I suppose time flies when you're having fun."

"Fun?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"You know," I answer with a nonchalant wave of my hand "excruciatingly early morning training, getting beaten up, etc. What I love most."

Anderson belts out a short laugh at the sarcasm dripping from my words. "I can't believe it has taken you nine months to hit me. You are my worse student yet." His eyes twinkle in mischief.

My face reddens profusely as I smack him on the shoulder weakly. Sadly, it is true. I used to dance so I had the flexibility and balance to execute most of the hand-to-hand combat moves but had very little stamina or strength. The first five months of 'training' consisted of basic stamina and strength increasing exercises. It was an intense struggle at first, but after a while I came to appreciate and even enjoy it. Although I am still weaker than both David or Jane, I am definitely a lot tougher than I was nine months ago. The jealousy of watching her spar so gracefully with David, the way she moved like she was on water. Although she was not able to beat him, she gave him enough bruises to rival mine. Thankfully, this did not correlate with the other exercises we did. Surprisingly enough I found out that I was a better shot than Jane. Then again, if she ends up being a Vanguard or Adept, she doesn't actually required much aim. But again, celebrating the little things in life, there was at least _one_ thing that I could beat her at.

"But you love me the most." I retaliate.

"Don't you know it." Then he sobers up. "But onto more serious matters… You will be turning 18 soon."

So this is where the conversation is going. A week after we landed in Citadel Jane announced that she was going to join the System Alliance Military. It didn't surprise my greatly because I knew that she would enlist in it soon but I guess I wasn't prepared as to where that left me. I declined to follow her for I knew that I was not prepared. About a month of training with David, he became so greatly impressed with her progress that he got her a placement with a two-year military course, and you can guess it, the N7. Aside from weekly correspondence through messages I haven't seen her since then. Thankfully she will be returning for a week in December before heading off again. I look forward to seeing the red-haired, green-eyed girl that I considered my sister.

Bringing my mind back to the conversation at hand I honestly had no clue as to what I am to do now. I sigh, "we are discussing my life path aren't we?"

David nods, "do you know what you want to do now? Or where you want to go in the future?"

"Not really." I say, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "To be honest the future kind of looks very vague at the moment. Hell, it always looked vague. I don't know what I am here for, or what I am supposed to do in this world."

My words are words of honesty but my adopted 'father' takes it to mean something else, that my inability to remember my past is hindering my ability to look to the future. He smiles encouragingly. "I was thinking… Have you considered joining C-Sec?"

The Citadel Security Service? I look at him in shock. That has never occurred to me before. The way C-Sec works is a lot more complicated than I had expected when playing through the game. He continues, "You have the mind and ability to be a detective. Seeing the way you interact with people and how they naturally fall into ease with you makes me think that you would be great at handling tight and stressful situations as well as pick up on things that other people miss. I have seen you reading up on the psychology of the Aliens and although those words seem to mean gibberish to me I can see that you truly understand it, and I think you can put your innate ability to good use."

"But why C-Sec?" I ask. Inside, I am slightly surprised that he had paid attention to my reading list.

"You are not a xenophobe, and you can relate to others, human or not, so working with the Turians will not be a problem for you. Also, you are good with a gun and are more or less capable of taking care of yourself in tight situations."

"But the entry requirements? I know joining the C-Sec is quite difficult. You would have to be in the military or police force for quite a while before they accept your application don't you? And I have never even been on Earth!"

A look of contemplation comes onto his face. "Yes, but you survived Mindoir and haven't allowed it to affect you, despite of all the deaths you saw. And you have been training under me for quite some time now. I don't think they would say that you are not 'fit' to be a C-Sec agent."

I can tell that he has rehearsed this. I stare at him for a while before it hits me. That is right, Anderson was supposed to be a Specter wasn't he? Surely being his 'adopted daughter' would gain me some perks, even if we have only known each other for such a short while.

"C-Sec… Interesting…" Does this mean I get to meet Garrus? I shudder a little in apprehension. Garrus Vakarian. I know he was in C-Sec before he joined Shepard's crew. He was one of my favourite characters in the game, probably _the most liked_ character. I thoroughly enjoyed his rebellious, down to earth and don't-take-shit-from-anybody attitude. A little earlier than expected but an exciting prospect all the same. Was he even in C-Sec this early?

"You will of course have to start from the bottom; probably a year or so in the Presidium before being allocated to do anything else. But I'm sure you can work your way up pretty quickly."

I slowly nod in agreement. Actually, joining the C-Sec is quite a brilliant idea. Not only can I learn more about the Aliens, I can probably meet other characters like Harkin and Executor Pallin. "Alright. Where do I go to sign up?"

David grins, "isn't going to be that easy pal. I am going to have to pass this idea to Captain Belliard and see if he can pull some string to get you an 'in'. Humans and Turian relations are still a little raw. I'll let you know what happens next. For now," he sniffs the air "you are in dire need of a shower."

"Thanks 'dad'." I roll my eyes and stand up. "But in all honesty, really, thank you. For everything."

"It has been my pleasure."

"Oh and Sky?" He calls out just as I open the door out of the sparring room. "You do know that if you join C-Sec your work would probably start really early." I wait for him to continue. "So you do know that whenever I am not on Hastings your training will begin at, oh- three in the morning?"

I slam the door to his laughs and storm my way to the shower. Damn. And here I was hoping that _that_ nightmare would be over.

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**The shortest chapter so far, but sort of expected no? **

**Hmm, maybe I should start thinking about pairings. I do intend for the OC to engage in a romantic relationship with one of Shepard's crew but who...?**

**Reading your reviews would be a pleasure.**

**Till next time. **

**xx**


	6. Beginning

**I'm on a roll! I have to warn you now though don't expect a very regular update. It will fluctuate here and there depending on my free time and mood. But here is the newest installment for your pleasure. =] Reviews are appreciated.**

**However before you read on I have to apologize for a couple of things that Helljumper_1337 has brought to my attention:**

**1. I cannot believe I have gone through this whole time spelling Shepard as Shepherd. A very stupid mistake to make but one that I have already corrected.  
><strong>**2. Apparently according to the novels Batarians find humans ugly. My only way around this is that since some humans are into sick things like beastality, perhaps some batarians find the thrill in humans?**

**A warning, rape and murder is mentioned in this chapter. I know, kind of strange how that comes up so often, but it's because I spend a lot of my time fighting for women's rights and safety and all that, it is on my mind quite often.**

_Year 2176; 5 years and 4 months has passed since the last chapter._

_Shepard is 21 and Sky is 22._

_Shepard has been in the military for 6 years; Sky has been in the C-Sec for 5._

_################################################_

"_So… How was your day Sky?"_

The ever-clear, deep, double-based voice of a turian vibrates gently in my right ear through the disguised com. I roll my eyes and resist the urge to throw something at a wall as I walk through the smoke filled club clad in so little clothing I my as well not be wearing anything at all. The skin-tight black leather clings so close to my body that it acts like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination. The outfit has a strange alluring shape that makes me feel like my breasts are spilling out of it and my rear is exposed for the whole world to see. To make matters worse my feet are graced in a pair of black thigh-high stiletto boots that make me look like any regular hooker, and I am balancing a tray of drinks in my right hand. Around me the asari strippers are dressed in something similar, bumping and grinding to the beat. Needless to say, I feel highly, _highly_ uncomfortable at the moment. Hence why I do not find it extremely amusing that the turian finds this entertaining.

"_Hey, do you know that everyone turns to stare at your butt whenever you walk pass? You have an amazing walk you know, you should model."_

I grit my teeth in frustration and bite the urge to slam the Martini I have in my hands right on top of the seemingly innocent looking turian sitting in the corner of the club. Instead I school my features and continue on my journey to the opposite side of Archo's- Citadel's most shady and seedy hangout spot for the regular criminals, 'Gentlemen's Club' my ass. However, I am really curious as to the name it held, I swear it was called Chora's Den when I played ME. Then again, it has been almost 6 years since I indulged in that RPG so perhaps my memory is getting a little hazy. Better go home to re-check my notes just in case.

Having taken up Psychology for A-Levels I knew that the longer I spent in the world of Mass Effect, the worse my memory of the details would become. So I took the liberty to spend an entire week writing down every single thing I could remember about the game, just in case I would require it in the future. The past 6 years haven't proven me wrong for day by day I began to lose little bits of information about everything. It was tedious, mind-wrecking work at the time. But I am very thankful for it now.

"_You know what? Maybe you should wear that everyday from now on. We would get jobs done SO much easier! All you have to do is bend down a little bit, and 'BAM' I can hit them while they are distracted and its lights out."_

"Chellick, shut the hell up." I whisper into my hand as I disguise it to be a cough. Even without turning my head I can imagine the flare of his mandibles that I have come to realize happens whenever he finds something highly amusing, a little bit like a human's grin.

"_Awh Sky, why so mean? Just a little bit of-" _The com goes silent for a bit and I nearly stumble with worry. But instead of turning around to check I smile sweetly at the human patron before me and set his drink on the table. _"Stay sharp. They're here, three o'clock."_

I take the money that the man hands me and return to the bar to pass it to the bartender. "You sure about this? Mind you, I don't really have much experience with all this."

"_You'll do fine. Just be confident, smile, and touch them a lot. My research shows that they prefer humans to asaris anyway. And since you are the only other female human here aside from the two waitresses, you're pretty much good to go."_

I straighten my back and push my strained breasts out even more. "Alright, here goes nothing."

"_There is nothing to worry about. They are already staring at you like a pack of vultures."_

I approach our targets at their round booth. Before me sat the three most (suspected) notorious rapists I have ever come across. Not only do they do incredibly sick and sadistic things to their victims until their death, they also enjoyed hacking apart and defiling their corpses. Looking at their supposedly innocent faces makes me want to shoot out their brains there and then. But I can't, we need solid proof to place these guys behind bars and that is my aim for tonight. "Good evening gentlemen. What can I get you today?" I say in a sickeningly sweet voice. The three men sitting at their places resembles Chellick's description down to the mole on one of their faces. They are reasonably good-looking men, in their late 30s, all with a hint of stubble growing on their faces. It is no wonder why their victims fall for their plans so easily. 10 human women over the past two months, and that number grows larger as more time passes. According to Chellick, the most gruff looking one is called John, he is the leader of the 'pack'; the other two are named Wilson and Groft. The three are obviously out tonight looking for their newest victim.

Their scheming stops here.

The one called John looks me up and down with such a predatory gaze that I have to keep myself from shivering. I maintain the innocent, sweet look on my face as I look at them expectedly. "We'll have three house specials." He finally says, but his eyes never leave my chest. The inner Sky rolls her eyes in disgust. "And we'll give you a very large tip if you would get a fourth and join us."

I giggle and brush my fingers on the low-hanging necklace that lie on the crevice of my breasts almost bashfully. "That is really sweet of you but I'm not allowed to drink on the job."

A hand begins brushing up and down the back of my thighs and I bite my lip in attempt to resist the urge to break that said hand. I look to the owner of it, Groft, trying to keep the mask of shyness on my face and the rage hidden. "Just one drink honey? It won't hurt much. And, I'm sure if you pass this to your boss," he hands me a 100 credits. "he won't mind if you take a break."

Wow these guys are persistent. On the bright side, they are making this job easy for me. I lower my head as though giving way to their demands and nod slowly. "Okay, I'll ask him."

Twenty minutes later I found myself pressed in between John and Wilson, laughing my supposedly intoxicated ass off. "I am so so sorry!" I cry out in embarrassment when I finally stopped laughing. "I told you guys I am lightweight but none of you would listen to me! Now I don't think I can even work anymore." I pout in what I hope is a cute manner.

"Oh sweetheart, our sincerest apologies. But don't worry, you won't get fired or anything. Tell you what. If you would come home with us tonight I will transfer a 1000 credits to both yours and your employers account right now so that they would forgive you for missing one night."

I stare at Groth with a bewildered look on my face. "A 1000 credits? Oh wow, that is a lot of money. I could pay my rent for this month with that." I look on in worry. "But- your home? What do you expect from me?"

"Oh nothing much. We just want to make sure you have a safe place to stay for tonight. I don't really like a woman being home alone by herself especially one as beautiful as you." I nearly gag in response for at the same time he said that, Wilson's hand began traveling up my thighs. Before his limb could go any further I stand up.

"Okay! Why not? It will be fun! Like a slumber party!" I giggle and stumble, only to be saved by John's supportive arm.

I didn't miss the sadistic glance that was passed from each man to another, but I feign ignorance, laughing shrilly while chatting away happily as the men guide me out of the club. At the corner of my eye I can see a turian stand up to settle his bill. It makes me feel more at ease to know that he will be right there, every step of the way.

The men lead me towards a very quiet and empty area at the bottom of the club. It looks strangely familiar, but again my blurry memory of ME 1 doesn't really help. Not to mention I wasn't exactly lying when I said I was lightweight. The amount of alcohol that I had to down was not very far from my limit. I am having trouble keeping with the sway of the room. Then the group stops.

I look around and giggle. "Is this where you live?"

John laughs. "No." Suddenly the Mr Nice Guy masks comes off at I can swear that his eyes glint red in the dim lighting. "But this will be where you stop living."

I allow true and raw fear to leak into my eyes as I take steps backwards. I didn't count on this happening. I thought I would at least have time to reach their usual place of action where our back up are currently stationed at. They are changing their MO for tonight. I feel a pang of regret, I should have guessed. Isn't it basic criminology that serial killers' crimes get progressively worse the further deep they fall? Damn Sky, you idiot. This mistake could very well cost you your life.

"_Hey. Relax, I'm with you." _Whispers a calm voice over the com, soft enough so that the three murderers cannot hear it. _"I decided to follow you instead." _Thank God. Despite all the endless teasing that came from my partner, he always had the ability to pull through when it really mattered. I could kiss him right now. _"Say the safety phrase Sky, and I'll get you out of there. But I need you to say the safety phrase."_

The safe word, 'my brother Owen'. With those three words I know that the Chellick would tear out of the corner he is currently hiding behind, guns blazing. But in doing that I also know that we would lose the only opportunity of a lead we have. I cannot let that happen. Not after we have worked this hard to get to this place, besides if not me, they would hurt so many other women, so many other families…

No, I have to end this today.

"Wha-what do you mean?" My voice trembles, "who are you people?"

Groft cackles evilly. "Who do you think Missy? Dark area, alone by yourself, stupid enough to follow three complete strangers. Well... We're the infamous Branding Killers of course."

The 'Branding Killers' is the name the media dubbed the three mysterious culprits of the murders all around Citadel. This was because they had a habit of 'branding' their victims with their initials, J.G.W. When the case first came to our attention we original thought it was one man who was stupid enough to label his name for us. It took us a while to realize that no, it was not one man, but three, and the names they used for each other are just codenames.

All this while a strategy has been forming in my head. Serial killers who have managed to get away with their crimes this far along normally became very proud and obsessive about their work. If I could make them admit what they had done exactly, in terms of what was not released to the media, then we would have them. Calling themselves the Branding Killers is not enough evidence.

I scoff. "You three? As if. You three look too weak and too stupid to get away with what they have done." I take a step forward in defiance. "You know what I think? I think you three are idiotic copy cats that are trying to act cool and that's all."

There was a flash of rage in John's eyes before he shoves me into the wall so hard that my head slams against the concrete. Bright spots explode in my vision as a high pitch ringing resounds through my ears. "You bitch." He spits in my face before his hand comes up to grab my neck. He easily lifts my 55kg weight off the floor grinning as I choke and claw at his hands.

"_Dammit Sky, what the fuck are you doing? These men aren't your regular criminals!" _asks the concerned voice of Chellick.

"You know what we are going to do to you? How about I tell you in detail because I love seeing such stupid wenches sweat." John presses his body up to mine and whispers in my ear. "Like our first victim, we are going to take our own sweet time raping every orifice of your sweet body until they bleed and tear." His hands run up my inner thighs and at the same time he grinds his erection onto my leg. "Like our second we are then going to cut all your pretty little digits off and- I don't know, use them as dog food? Like our third, we will remove your tongue, eyes, and those straight white teeth of yours, without anesthesia of course." He giggles in glee, obviously excited by the prospect of blood being spilt. "Like our fourth, after you have left us to join the spiritual world we shall slice you into mini little pieces and leave you for the police to find. How about that?"

I gurgle in response and he loosens his grip slightly. "What was that?" he asks, smirking.

"I said," I rasp out. "My brother Owen will kill you."

All three of them bellow out laughter's that echo throughout the area. "And you think we are afraid of your brother?"

"No." Calls out another voice, a voice that I have never been so glad to hear before. "But you should be afraid of me."

I lift my right leg up with as much force as I can muster, hitting John in the groin with my knee. His grip on my neck immediately slackens as he lets out a shout of pain and drop to the floor, hands cradling his goods. At the same time, my turian partner slams his three-fingered fist into the Wilson's surprised face, knocking him to the ground. Groft recovers from his surprise and runs toward Chellick but the turian doesn't even bat an eyelash before he side-steps his clumsy tackle and shoves his hardened elbow into the back of Groft's neck, causing instantaneous paralysis.

And just like that, our entire two months of hard work comes to an anticlimactic close. I walk over to the doubled over John just as Chellick calls reinforcements in to deal with the mess. Placing the edge of my heel on his temple, I apply enough pressure for him to begin squirming in discomfort. "For the women you have killed, for the people you have hurt and the family you have destroyed I should drive my heel into your brain right now." I press down a little harder and the pain from his groin is momentarily forgotten as I dig deep enough to draw blood. "But instead I'll let the families take the pleasure of delivering you to your execution." He sighs in relief as I remove my boot from his view. But before he could react in any way I lift it back up and slam down on his crotch with all the strength that I can muster. There is a sickening crack, followed by the screams of a man in true agony. I turn around with a huff. "You can handle the rest Chellick. I'm going to get out of this disgusting costume."

The turian grins and shakes his head in admiration before nodding. "Alright. You get out of here or you are going to miss the shuttle."

"Thanks partner. You're the best." I reach out and rub the shoulder pad of his armor affectionately. When we first started working together my intimate gestures freaked him out. I was quick to gather that turians are not physically intimate creatures. But it is not something I can help. It all comes natural to me; if I'm in the presence of someone I trust and care about I enjoy being in physical contact with them one way or another. After being my partner for 3 years he has gotten used to it, chalking it all up to be a 'Sky' thing.

"Wish Jane a Happy Birthday for me."

"If I can get there on time!" I call out as I rush out of the little underground passage. Then it comes to my realization why this place looks so familiar, it was where Shepard first meets Tali in ME1.

Huh, pretty cool.

_################################################_

"What? What do you mean it has been canceled?" I cry in outrage at the C-Sec officer before me. He shifts nervously, clearly uncomfortable for having to stop an evidently very impatient and irritable superior.

"Sorry ma'am. It appears that there is a situation going on. All civilian transportation to that general area is currently on hold."

No no no. This is not happening. I _cannot _miss Jane's 22nd birthday! Especially since this is the first time she has been given proper shore leave when I am free in 5 bloody years.

"I demand to know the situation."

The officer fidgets. "I'm afraid I do not know much ma'am. Only that transportation has been cancelled."

I narrow my gaze and send him a death glare. "Look officer, I am running very, very thin on patience right now for I am late for a very, very important event. Even a nitwit can tell that you are lying. I can very well contact C-Sec to ask for the real details but how about you save me that time by telling me what the hell is going on."

The boy gulps. Shooting sideways glances around him to check that no one else is around, he then leans forward slightly and whispers in a very low tone. "We're forbidden from telling anyone outside the investigation because it might cause a wide-spread panic but-"

"Elysium is under attack."

_################################################_

**Dum dum duuumm. Not a very big cliffhanger. But a mini cliff all the same, perhaps a step?**

**Let me know what you think.**

**Oh I forgot to mention before, Bioware owns almost everything but my OC!**

**Till next time.**

**xx**

**ps. longest chapter ever!**


	7. Progression

**Hello all, **

**My my it has really been a while hasn't it? I apologize profusely and endlessly for my absence. I haven't updated this in the longest time, not because of any dire situations, no, but I suppose I lost my motivation and fire. Not to sound too... self-piteous but I felt like this story wasn't getting much attention, which ultimately led me to feel like perhaps this isn't well liked amongst the fanfic readers community, which led me to feel put out and I just didn't feel like writing anymore.**

**HOWEVER. After a considerably lengthy break I decided, to hell with it. I miss this story and I had such fun with it. I want this to continue. I want to see this through to the end. So I decided that I will. Although I am still a little unsure to what end exactly, I promise that I will finish this. And I hope you, my loyal readers and reviewers, would stick with me all the way through.**

**Life did get slightly more complicated during my absence, with a considerably more demanding social life and** exams approaching I might not be able to update more than once a week. But I will try my best to get each chapter up as soon as possible.****

****Anyway, less about me, and more about the story. I forewarn you to go easy on me. It is actually quite difficult to get back into the gist of things.****

****Enjoy!****

****_################################################_****

I fumble with the different colored notebooks in my drawer, searching for the familiar bright yellow one that quite literally holds worldly secrets. Finally finding what I am looking for I slam the drawer shut using my right hip, before settling down on the sofa in the corner to look through its pages.

The little hardcover that I hold in my hands is everything that I know, or can remember about Mass Effect. Everything is categorized from characters, to the storyline, to places, etc. The actual noting down of information took me the better part of 3 days but then I rewrote everything in Chinese and in code. Not only do the characters travel in strange directions, the pages are rearranged in a manner that only I know of. The purpose of all that hard work was to ensure that even if this book got stolen, it would take a while for the culprit to translate it. It was not the most ideal or the most thief-proof but it was the best I could do with the resources I had.

Flipping to the middle of my notes I searched the index for the word 'Elysium'. There has been an itch in the corner of my brain ever since the C-Sec officer told me about the attack. I know this has to be an important event, it honestly feels like the beginning of something else all together.

I let out a little noise of triumph as I find what I'm looking for. I turn to a page about 30% from the beginning and start to read my entry:

"_The Skyllian Blitz, an assault on Elysium that results in Shepard gaining the 'War Hero' status. Batarian slavers. Shepard only survivor."_

That's it? Three sentences? I sigh as I close the book shut, once again regretting that I didn't spend more time replaying ME1. However, this has provided me more information than my memory did. So I was right, this is the start of Shepard's famous career. I carefully return my book to its rightful place and lock the drawer shut.

Sitting on the bed of my one-bedroom apartment I place my head in my hands, the darkened room providing little solace to the hopelessness that I feel. When this adventure first began it was easy to imagine Shepard as some iron-willed hero who would save the world from destruction. But Shepard is no longer just Shepard, she is Jane, the sister I never had. I try to imagine the pain that she is currently going through, seeing the people she has grown attached to taken away from her by batarians once again. It is a wonder that she does not grow into this ruthless, cynical beast that I know anyone else in her position would probably become. I let out an inaudible sigh as I rub my temples gently. What should I do? What _can _I do?

The resounding tinkle of the doorbell interrupts my thoughts. My eyes shift to the holographic clock at the corner of the room that reads 1:14am. Who would be at my door at this hour?

With my bare feet gently padding against the cool carpeted floor I walk over to the door and open it, to my surprise it was my partner, Chellick and another turian that I did not recognize.

"Hey Sky." He greets before entering into my living room, his friend grants me a sheepish wave before walking in as well. I roll my eyes at Chellick's usual 'I own the world and everything in it' attitude before shutting the door. Turians. I force my body through the motions of getting myself a coffee and taking out two turian-friendly beers tucked discreetly in my fridge before settling myself down on the couch opposite the two aliens, handing them their drinks and giving a warm smile at the awkward one.

"Hi, my name is Sky." I introduce myself with an outstretched hand. The turian takes it readily and smiles back, or what I think is a smile, it is hard to tell in the dark.

"Vakarian, Garrus Vakarian. It is nice to meet you." My coffee cup nearly slips out of my hand but I regain my composure just in time. "Sorry for the ah- intrusion so early in the morning."

"Hmm? Oh- absolutely no problem." I struggle to keep the shock out of my face and voice. I deliver a quick and swift kick towards Chellick's foot. "He does this all the damn time. I'm sort of used to it. First time he has brought a friend though."

"Garrus used to be my partner before you." Chellick intervenes in the introductions. "He's here because I think he has important information."

I nod, curious to know what this particular piece of information is. But no matter, I'm sure he would get to the chase sooner or later. So Garrus used to work with Chellick? Small world, or rather, Universe. "And here I was thinking that you finally came out of the closet."

My partner rolls his eyes and waits until I sit down comfortably with my legs curled around my body and warm coffee in my hands before he begins. This must be serious if he ignored a blatant insult like that. "Well, since you are still here I assume you heard about the situation in Elysium?"

I nod solemnly, "obviously."

"Well…? Are you going to do anything about it?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "What can I do? I'm about as helpless as the next person. Even if I wanted to do something completely stupid like travel to Elysium right now all the transport systems are on lockdown."

Chellick turns to Garrus and nods to give him the go. I look over at the blue-marked turian. It is still taking me time to process the fact that Garrus Vakarian, in my opinion, the sexiest sounding (a tie with Thane Krios) and most attractive character in Mass Effect of all time is currently sitting before me, on my couch, as real as real can be. I had always hoped to meet Garrus during my work in C-Sec but somehow that opportunity never arose and over the course of the past 6 years I have not managed to make his acquaintance.

Well, better late than never I suppose. Not that never was ever an option.

The turian clears his throat, "well what the C-Sec failed to learn of is that the ones responsible of this attack is the same slavers that destroyed Mindoir 7 years ago." My eyes widen in shock and I resist the urge to gasp. The same ones…? I should have known, after all, isn't this world just full of coincidences? Garrus continues, "also, the Alliance is preparing to take them head on, once and for all as revenge for the Mindoir incident. However, the preparations are going to take time…"

"And by then it would probably be too late for Jane." Chellick interrupts swiftly. Saying the words that his ex-partner was obviously uncomfortable with revealing.

I look at the two open faces of the turians before me. Years of working alongside numerous aliens have given me good insight on how to read their expressions, despite being so varied from humans'. How do I tell them that I already know all this? How do I tell them that this is something I must allow to happen, must take place, for Shepard- no, Jane- to become the person her destiny says she will be. I'm not a mother but this must be how one feels when watching her child go to War, knowing full well what can happen to them.

I grip the coffee cop tightly in my hands, tight enough for my knuckles to go white. It is a wonder that the porcelain mug doesn't just shatter in my hands from the amount of force I am applying to it.

Finally I break the silence. "What do you suggest I do?"

Chellick hesitates, unsure how to continue. "I was hoping that you were already planning something or another. She is like a sister to you no? Would you really just let her go that way…?"

I place my drink onto the table, afraid that I would really just destroy it, before returning back to my curled position. Maybe if I didn't already know she would survive I would put myself out there. Maybe if I didn't know that she needed this I would actually have a plan. But for now, I'm helpless.

I sink deeper into the comfortable chair, covering my face with my hands.

After a couple of moments Chellick stands up, understanding my lack of response. He nudges Garrus and they both begin to leave, drinks that I brought them remaining untouched from the short conversation that we had.

"So that's it? You're not going to do anything? You're not going to even try?" my partner mutters right before he exits the apartment. Garrus gently grabs onto his forearm, a warning to go easy on me. It was evident in that simple gesture that they had a great partnership, and were probably as attuned to each other as Chellick and myself are. I said nothing.

The turian snarls in indignation. "Your sister and you would do nothing? You are not the partner I thought you were." With that he storms out of the room, Garrus shoots me an apologetic look before following after him, knowing that this was obviously not his place. A painfully empty silence follows right after the shutting of the automatic doors and the activation of the lock.

I sigh in hopelessness and cradle by throbbing head in my cold hands. Oh Chellick, if only you knew…

But the bigger worry is, where do I go from here?

###

I shift uncomfortably in the metal chair, watching the events on stage with Anderson sitting next to me, looking equally as uneasy. We are in a large hall, not unlike the ones normally seen in military movies. Rows and rows of metal chairs occupied by numerous different types of species fill the hall from near the stage to the very end. It is so crowded that a large display is required to project what can be seen occurring on stage so that those behind can watch without needing binoculars. Anderson and I are lucky, and important enough to be seated on the second row from the front, listening to the well-rehearsed speech given by Anita Goyle, the current human ambassador, on the recent incident in the Skyllian Verge.

It is not difficult to follow her words. The events she currently recounts had been on the lips of virtually everyone for the past week, ever since the news of the Skyllian Blitz broke out, causing diplomatic mayhem everywhere.

Goyle talks about how it all began, of how a large group of pirates, slavers and batarian warlords attacked the human capital of Elysium with the intention to destroy it completely. She congratulates the small ground teams and normal Elysium civilians, many who are amongst today's crowd, for their bravery of holding off the pirates while the Alliance Navy engaged the enemies' vessels in space. She even retold the account of Navigator Pressly, word for word about how the pirate ships were no match for the Alliance, and that when reinforcements arrived the enemy fled in whatever little they had left. And finally, she reads through a list of soldiers' names that lost their lives in battle.

I know that Jane's name was not amongst them, but as I sit with my head down in respect, my hands are clasped so tightly that my fingers are white, ears straining with the effort to not miss a single word. Relief came in the form of a sigh when the list ends and Doyle announces, "-we will never forget the debt that we owe them."

My heart twists painfully at the thought of the dead, of those who have given up their lives for the safety of others. I look at my clenched fists, wondering if that was something I could ever do: if I could ever give up my life for a stranger, for the greater good.

The words "Jane Shepard" puts an abrupt halt to my thoughts as I look up so fast that I nearly hurt my neck. Lo and behold there she is, limping slightly but still walking with an amazing amount of confidence and power towards the ambassador. Even with the gait she is the epitome of strength. Doyle says something or another to the crowd about how Shepard deserves the honor the Star of Terra, but since I already know all this I just tune it out. Instead, I take the time to survey the redhead that I have come to care deeply for. She looks incredibly strong and beautiful, dressed in full military gear with the shiny medal now pinned to her right breast, next to the gleaming 'N7'. Her hair is out of her usual ponytail and cascades midway down her back. There is a weary, but proud look in her eyes that assures me she has not given in to the recent events. In fact, now, with her jaw clenched, she looks far more superior and dangerous than she ever did before. Her eyes roam the crowd, as though searching for something, until they meet mine.

I smile with as much trembling confidence as I can muster, sending a wink her way. The harsh lines on her face immediately soften as she smiles discreetly back.

There is a tremendous round of applause as Doyle announces Jane to be some sort of War Hero. The approval and admiration from the people around me would have made any parent's heart swell with pleasure

But there is no room for much else other than the relief that flood through my veins because the Jane standing on that stage is still the Jane I know and love.

I wouldn't have known what to do with myself if she wasn't.

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**I hope you liked it. Again as before and as it will be always, reviews are much appreciated.**

**How did you find it? Did I do okay after such a long break?**

**Let me know your views and criticisms.**

**Love**

**Fee.**

**xx**


	8. Switch

**Now isn't this exciting? Another chapter up! I'm quite proud with myself and I'm starting to feel the fire again.**

**Thank you so much for your kind reviews. They have given me the motivation to continue. Truly and really.**

**I realize that the past few chapters all have been about getting to know the characters, etc. I think it is time to start on a plot. A real plot. I'm jumping up and down in anticipation since after this subplot I want to start on the Mass Effect 1 story line.**

**Finally! But of course, I will be replaying the whole game at the same time to try to be as realistic as possible. I'm a stickler for details.**

**Do enjoy, and review at the end if possible. I want to know your thoughts!**

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To say I am bored would be a dire understatement.

I cross my arms and rest them on the railing, admiring the Citadel skyline below. Even at this late hour the hover cars zoom constantly in all directions, as though the drivers have no regard for their own safety or any traffic etiquettes whatsoever. But having live here for so long I know better, the rules for transportation are complicated and aplenty, so much so that I never bothered to learn how to drive. Still, the way the bright lights flew here and there reminds me of one of those traffic videos on fast motion. It is rather pretty.

A cold draft blew and I force myself to suppress a shiver. It is a cold night and I had left my scarf inside. Not to mention this outfit gives the wind much to prey on.

A movement to my left causes me to turn slightly when I found myself being covered with a suit jacket. The strange shape and feel of the tuxedo told me I am in the company of someone that wasn't human.

"Cold night huh?" resounds the double bass of a familiar voice. My shoulders relax at the sound and I lean further out the balcony.

"It is." I reply as he adopts the same position as me on my left. A somewhat awkward silence settles between us and I shoot him a sideways glance.

I haven't spoken a word to my partner since he appeared in my apartment two weeks ago, bearing news that I already knew about. It was strange, not having his presence beside me, to guard my back, daily. But with the Elysium incident, we were both swamped with individual work, not to mention neither of us really had anything to say to each other. He thought I was acting like a coward and I could not really say or do anything to prove him wrong. So I had let it be.

"You look good tonight."

I raise an eyebrow. Chellick isn't one to be loose with his compliments, especially with the true sincerity laced within his voice. I glance to my right at the reflection in the tall dark glass window and wonder if he was right. Next to the turian I look tiny in comparison, even with the four-inched heels that grace my feet. I am dressed in a tailored crimson gown that sparkles lovely under the dim lighting. It is a beautiful piece with a halter neckline and an extremely low back that loops just to end right above my tailbone. My hair is done up in an elaborate up-do that allows tresses to frame my face while my makeup is left simple, but classy. I won't lie, I am proud with how well I cleaned up tonight.

My gaze then shifts to the person next to me. It is the first time I have seen him outside his uniform. Chellick has some strange habits about what he wears and when. He usually refuses to go anywhere without his CSec armor, claiming that he has to be ready for trouble at any time of day. But now in place of the standard bulky blue armor he is dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and a green tie that matches his wonderful eyes. I don't doubt that he would look very smart with his jacket on, the one that I am currently occupying.

"So do you."

"Are you enjoying the party?" he asks, gesturing to the door behind us.

Am I? That is a rather difficult question to answer. Someone somewhere had decided that it was a good idea to throw a party to congratulate and welcome those from Elysium and the soldiers that were involved. It was a better reason than any I suppose, and a lot of people turned up, probably just to get away from it all for a while.

I hesitate, "Well… This isn't exactly my scene." My partner shoots me a look that I could only label as incredulous. If he had a human face, he would probably be raising an eyebrow at me. "I just don't do big parties and big crowds. I can act like I enjoy them fine, but I think I would rather be at home, in bed, and not in these shoes."

"Then why are you here?" I groan in response. There is a simple four-letter word to explain this all. "Jane dragged you here didn't she? How is she doing?"

I smile softly as I nod my head. To be honest, I didn't mind coming here with her. The past three days had been somewhat strange. I still stay at our 'fathers'' place. It is a comfortable three bedrooms, two bathrooms apartment equipped with a fully furnished kitchen, dining room, living area and a training room. And since Anderson was not around often, I basically have the place to myself. I took the past three days off work, opting to spend time with Jane instead. She has been given two weeks of break before she has to return to the Alliance. I guess even War Heroes have to earn their keep.

"She's getting better." I didn't lie. Jane is getting better. But the incident on Elysium has left her scared beyond comparison. There are only so many times you can watch the people you care about die before you break. Chellick and I both know that. "I'm still worried though. I don't like how her eyes look sometimes. She is a little different now, more… ruthless. For the lack of a better word."

The turian nods his head, understanding what I mean. It happens a lot in our line of work, where an officer or soldier would come across something so bad that they lose the will to continue: the death of a family member, gang wars, losing friends in battle, the list is endless. More often than not Chellick would point out an acquaintance he used to know and explain to me their heart-breaking story. And these people all have something in common, eyes that no longer sparkle, that tell us even though they live, breathe and eat, they are dead inside.

_We sit on the couch in the living room, an awkward arms length apart from each other. I am not sure where to begin, or even what to say. I glance at her stoic, expressionless face and I feel a sharp pain in my chest. Have I lost her? Yet I school my features so that I don't reveal the inner turmoil inside. The last thing she needs now is my pity or worries. _

_I remember that being declared a War Hero made her 'gain extra points' in Paragon mode in the game. But I've learnt that what applies in that third person shooter does not really apply here. This is as real as real can get. People get hurt, people die, and people lose the things that are important to them. It would be a stupid mistake to assume everything would go as Bioware had planned._

"_I didn't kill him." Jane's voice filled the silence and I look on, giving her the time to compose herself and continue. "At least, not at first."_

"_The pirates hit while we were asleep. It was a well-planned attack, taking in consideration that it was the batarians behind it. They open fired at the Alliance dorms, hoping to take out most of the soldiers on paid-leave before moving on I suppose." I turn to have a better view of her face. Her eyes still remains lifeless, and her voice, so monotonous that it strikes a deep fear within me. "I was lucky, I had drank too much the night before and fell asleep on the floor instead of the beds. They aimed for the beds."_

_I close my eyes, trying to push away the thoughts of the blood and body matter that I know would splatter throughout the room from the assault. But still, I said nothing, willing her to continue._

"_I had no choice. I tried to grab whoever I could to the floor but by the time I realized what was going on, most of them were dead. I crawled through what was left of my squad to get to our weapons and then the door." She closes her eyes, features slowly filling with pain as she recalls her dead comrades. I struggle to maintain a façade of distance. "I knew what I had to do." She continues. "So I took the precious minutes the batarians gave us to warn the Elysium civilians via radio."_

_Her voice turns hard, her eyes no longer holding pain but fury and weariness. "And then I went out and killed every single one of them."_

_I move slightly towards her, not wanting to make too much movement. Right now she is much like a frightened, injured animal that is slowly emerging out of her shell. I can't do anything to jeopardize that. She needs to get all of this out before it rips her apart inside._

_I give her my hand and she takes it. Her grip was tense and strong, mine equally so. She holds on like I am the lifeline away from her dreadful memories, and I let her._

"_But I didn't let them die easily. I was cruel, ruthless, unstoppable." The fear within me grew. "I let go of my control over my biotics, and it felt so good, so satisfying and exhilarating to tear them into pieces, to let their screams and blood wash over me. For once, I felt free." Her breathing quickens and her pupils dilate slightly. She is living in her memory now, words flowing without a pause. I tighten my grip, praying with all my heart that she will come out of them unscathed. "There was this one batarian, who had just finished gutting the body of an eleven year old girl. I recreated his artwork with his own body parts, ensuring that he stayed awake and alive long enough to feel every cut, every incision, every bullet and every broken bone."_

_Her last words come out as a whisper. A heavy stillness settles between us. Then she turns to me, coming out of her memories with tears in her eyes. "What is happening to me Sky?"_

_I say nothing, because I did not know what to say. Instead I wrap my arm around her and draw her into a tight hug with her head tucked underneath my chin. I kiss her crown as I feel her silent tears being absorbed into my shirt._

But still, as damaged and distraught as Jane was, she owed it to the people to attend this party, and because she didn't want to come alone, I got dragged along with her. She was quickly swept up by the crowd and fit right in amongst the Elysium citizens that were clamoring over each other to thank her. When I had left her she seemed to be enjoying a chat with another of the locals. Deeming her safe and entertained enough to get some air, I walked out.

"She'll come around. She's a very strong girl."

I nod my head thinking, _'you have no idea.' _How could he when I myself momentarily forget? Over the years it has been getting more and more difficult to remind myself that I do not belong here. It is so easy to be swept away with all the action, the training, the story. It has been almost 6 years since I have seen my family and yet I still think about them every day: mom, dad, my brothers. Is time at a standstill there? Or have I died in some freak accident? Or am I stuck in a coma? I try to imagine what I would be doing now if I were there, probably in college, finishing my psychology degree.

Yet instead I am here, next to an alien who would look like the stuff nightmares to the children back home.

I shift slightly, taking in his entire form- from his six-feet tall silhouette to the mandibles around his mouth; turians always remind me of a crossbreed between an overgrown lizard and a bird. But despite their strange and unnatural shape, I still consider them weirdly attractive. Or maybe it is that age-old phenomenon of being attracted to arrogant bastards.

I sometimes wonder if coming to this world has made me a xenophile. I don't find turians or asari anymore attractive than humans, but maybe that is the problem, the fact that I can find them equally attractive. I can name several other aliens that I think are good-looking enough to bed, although I admit my experiences in that area are extremely limited.

Chellick sighs, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between us. "I'm being reassigned." I nearly recoil in shock. "Apparently the higher ups believe that I would be more of use tackling drug and illegal trades instead of acting as a bounty hunter." His shoulders tense, adopting a stature of obvious discomfort.

After a moment of contemplation I find myself nodding slowly, trying to get used to the idea of no longer being around him. Chellick has been my friend for a very long time and is, outside of Anderson and Jane, my closet friend. There is no one I trust more to be upfront and honest with me. I sigh, cursing whatever Gods that have put me in this position. "A promotion?" I ask.

"Of sorts. They are being very vague, but there are talks of how I could someday replaced Pallin."

I raise an eyebrow to that. I have always known that Chellick has the potential for greatness. But to be in charge of C-Sec? Now that is a surprise, although a pleasant one. "Wow… Congratulations."

"Don't run before your horse to market." He quips, quoting one of my much-used Richard III lines. I stifle a laugh, shaking my head as I place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you so much Chellick." My voice trembles slightly with enough emotion that surprises me. It is not like he is leaving to another planet. In fact, I would probably see him at least once a week. But still, who else can accept me, with all my strangeness and idiosyncrasies except for this one different turian?

He pats my hand lightly. "Don't worry Sky, I'm not going anywhere. Plus, what kind of gentleman would I be if I left you alone?"

"That is the problem though, you're not one."

"Oh don't be petty." He says, laughing slightly. Then he sobers up a little and I can tell that he feels the same.

I turn and wrap my arms around his neck. He flinches a little, still not used to being so physically close with another person. But just as I am about to let go I feel his arms circle around my waist awkwardly at first, and then tighter.

I resist the urge to smile into his shoulder, before letting go. "Oh we are such a bunch of wuss aren't we?" I push the emotions away for now. "How about we end this little drama scene and head back into the party?"

Chellick's mandibles flare in sheepish agreement. "Alright. After you." He offers his arm out and I take it, resting my forearm against his. This is a very human custom, but it is something he has grown used to after being my partner for so long. Like I said before, I am a very physical person.

As we re-entered the room we receive several strange looks. It isn't often to see a human and turian getting along so well, especially after the war. As per usual, we both ignore them all.

"Wait." I say, suddenly remembering his words. "What do you mean by you're not leaving me all alone?"

"Hmm?" he questions, briefly distracted by a very provocatively dressed asari. "Oh. Yeah, about that. I found you another partner." He lets go of my arm and I roll my eyes. Men. They never change no matter the species.

"Who?" I ask, curious.

The occupied turian mutters a name before giving me a wink and walking off in the opposite direction, following after the blue-skinned female, leaving me very much stunned and alone. The irony of the situation isn't lost on me for he had said:

"Garrus Vakarian."

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**Badumdumdummmm. So now Garrus gets drawn into the picture.**

**I am tres excited. Although I'm wondering if this should be a GarrusxOC pairing, or ShepxGarrus, or any other pairing. I quite like the idea of Thane, or even Kaiden. Let me know what you think would be best?**

**Also, to explain why I added that scene with Shepard (if anyone really cares to read on) I'm thinking I need to switch up her personality a little bit more. I don't think I want a 100% paragon Shepard. Again, let me know what you think?**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And I pray that you'll stay tuned for more!**

**Love,**

**Fee**

**xx**

**ps. Over 20,000 words! YAY!**


	9. Turnover

**Here is another chapter! **

**Again, thank you so much for your kind reviews. I also of course, take note of the criticisms. I'm thinking that either when I'm done with this little sub-section or ME1 I should go back and re-edit. I kind of want to finish this 'first draft' before improving on the whole story.**

**The pressure is also on to get better. And I hope that I can do so. Thank you for coming back and I hope you enjoy this newest installment!**

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"Howdy partner." I call out to the large turian clad in blue armor that stalks aggressively towards me.

He sits down in the seat opposite me with a huff and I can tell that he is resisting the urge to slam his fist onto the fragile table between us. "That arrogant asshole." He growls.

I raise an eyebrow at his temper. So this is the Garrus before the Reapers, before Omega, before Shepard's death and before he goes gallivanting half way across the Universe.

"Alright, you have piqued my curiosity. Who is this arrogant asshole you are referring to?"

"Fucking Saren Arterius." Now why am I _not _surprised? This world just enjoys throwing ironies into my face. Pushing my personal thoughts aside I concentrate on the varying emotions playing across Garrus' face. "I must begrudgingly admit that I have some respect for Spectres for their ability to go their own way without giving a shit what others think. But Saren is a whole new level of bastard."

His mandibles flare out in anger and a snarl slides into place when he spits out Saren's name. I recall Garrus being called 'hot-headed' in the game but I never really saw proof of it, how old is he now? All this pre-Mass Effect changes sometimes confuse the hell out of me. It is rather difficult to keep a handle on things, past, present or future. "What did this, Saren, do?" I ask, playing dumb.

Garrus shakes his large reptilian head, I notice curiously that his face is marked very differently from Chellick. "He thinks just because he works for the Council he can act like he owns the world." Ah, so this is a pride problem then. Again, that doesn't really surprise me, considering that fact that turians are very, very proud creatures. "He is a disgrace and he should be put down."

The change in behaviour between my old partner and the turian before me is quite dramatic. Chellick, although playful and on occasion, annoying, always watched his words carefully, always able to pick the right opportunities to say the right things. Garrus however is a different story all together. He is about as easy to read as a book and lack the ability to control his emotions. I can only hope that if we were ever stuck in tight situations that he would not let his temper take over him.

I shake my head in amusement, petting his forearm in sympathy. I notice that he does not flinch, nor move away from my contact. Either Chellick had warned him of my public displays of affection or he is too angered to care. I gather my things and stand up. "Come on, let's head to my apartment. We can get to know each other better there, since we're to be partners and all that."

Garrus nods and follows after me. This is the first time meeting him after he appeared at my door a few weeks ago with Chellick. I am curious to hear about his adventures with my ex-partner, and I am sure he is equally interested in mine.

New partnerships are tricky things. Trust has to be established reasonably fast if we want to take on difficult assignments. After all, if there is no mutual trust then how can you expect the other person to guard your back in a firefight, or to be competent enough to do so? As we walk I mull over the things we have to do. The basics of course, such as just conversations and typical relationship building, which should occur over time naturally. And then there are things such as our fighting dynamics; a spar or two should overcome that problem. Furthermore we also have to know each other's weapon proficiency and our preferences when it comes to interrogation and interviews. Detective work consists of a lot of _that_ and the sooner we get the whole 'good cop, bad cop' routine down, the better we will do.

"Welcome to my humble abode. Again." I say as I open my apartment door. But just as Garrus walks in I am struck by a thought. What if he meets Jane at this place and time? Does this affect the storyline in the future? I know in the game they only meet when their mutual aim to bring down Saren brings them together. As I walk through the apartment I grow increasingly nervous, what if by changing the course of their friendship I am altering the passage of time? Checking all the rooms I let out a sigh of relief to find that she isn't home.

"Looking for something?" Garrus asks. I shake my head.

"Nah. Just wondering if my sister is around that's all." I gesture to the couch that he had occupied the last time he was here. "Do you want a drink?"

"You have anything non-toxic for turians?"

I nod, walking over to the fridge. "Chellick comes by here quite often so I always made sure I kept some just in case." I take out a beer and toss it to him. Garrus makes a small face of disgust when he reads the label.

"I don't understand how he drinks this stuff. It tastes as bad as human beer." But he opens it and takes a couple of sips anyway. I just ignore his comment and continue fixing myself up with a mug of warm water.

I sit down in the couch opposite him, a sense of Deja-Vu falling over me as I curl my legs underneath me. "So how long have you known Chellick anyway?"

Garrus puts down his drink on the coffee table before lounging back on the couch. I swear I don't remember him ever being this relaxed. Then again, between calibrations and fighting for his life, he didn't really have an opportunity to look relaxed. "He was my first partner after I joined CSec, so about… 3 years ago?"

I look up in surprise. Garrus is my junior? Damn, that is so strange. That means at most he is around 20 years old. Not even a full-fledged adult in human years! It has always been difficult to tell age differences when it came to aliens but to know that I am more experienced than an actual character from the game has my head reeling slightly. Having been in CSec for about six years, I was promoted around 2 years ago and Chellick has been my partner ever since. Garrus' background must have helped him out in terms of his position because I remember my first three years in CSec being the most boring three years of my life.

The conversation then trails off to all sorts of different things. It quickly becomes quite clear that despite our differences we get along rather well. The words flow easily and with honesty. We trade information and jokes, most of them on Chellick's expense. I already knew that Garrus was no xenophobe, but to witness the ease at which he interacts with humans, or at least me, is quite refreshing. Even Chellick took a while to get used to being my partner.

Slowly but surely day turns into night. It is only when my eyes begin to struggle slightly in the dim light that I realize how long we have been sitting here. I stand up, stretching slightly. "Woah. Time really flies when you're having fun huh?" The blue-marked turian cocks his head to the side, regarding me with curiosity. "What?" I ask, feeling slightly self-conscious under his intense stare.

He shakes his head. "Nothing really." Then he hesitates, "you're not like the other humans I have met."

My eyes narrow, "In what way…?"

"No particular way that I can place... But it is as though me being a turian doesn't matter to you at all. I mean, we have been sitting here for the past couple of hours, talking as though we have been friends forever… How are you so comfortable?"

I shrug, relaxing now that I know he did not insult me. "I've been Chellick's partner for almost two years now… You would think that I'm used to turian company no?"

My new partner shakes his head, "yeah, I suppose. But it is one thing to be used to something, and another to be so comfortable that you disregard all differences."

I mull over his words for a little while, sitting my ass back down on the couch. To be honest, his words make me feel slightly uncomfortable. How can I tell him that perhaps my affability is due to the fact that I feel like I have already known him forever? I think over my actions towards aliens over the past few years; have I been acting too casually? I cannot afford to act too much out of character for if anyone chooses to dig a little deeper, research a little more, I would be in deep, deep trouble. I run over the words I want to say in my mind- but maybe it is really just me? Back home I never succumbed to racism, or sexism. In actual fact, I abhorred, and still do, any form of prejudice.

"Well, I-" I stop, trying to formulate my words. "You see-" I don't know how to say all that without appearing a little pretentious. "Hmmm…"

Garrus laughs at my stuttering. "Take your time." Amusement laced clearly in his voice.

I shoot him a mini-glare before sighing. "Your words caught me on surprise that's all. I'll be frank here and say I have no clue. I just don't feel the need to categorize people, or aliens. We all have working brains, we all have feelings; sure we may come from different backgrounds or cultures, but that doesn't really change who we fundamentally are." I take a breath. "And I think that is most important, who you are and how your actions define you."

A silence follows my little speech before he nodded slowly in understanding. "So since you got me going off on a tangent, let me ask _you_ a question." I say as quickly as possible, eager to change the topic of discussion.

"Hit me."

"Why are your marks different from Chellicks?" I gesture to his face.

Garrus runs a talon across his face, tracing the dark blue tattoos that decorate his skin. He pauses slightly, him too searching for the right words to say. "These are clan markings." I nod at him to continue. "They are given to us when we reach the age of thirteen. A rite of passage of sorts."

"So what happens to the people who don't have clans? Or does every turian belong to a clan?"

"I'm surprised you never asked Chellick these questions."

I frown, that is true. "The question just never occurred to me I suppose. But anyway, you're avoiding the question."

Garrus sighs, "not every turian has a clan. The ones without don't have tattoos, and we call them 'barefaces'."

"'Bareface'? That doesn't sound like a very welcoming term…"

"It _is _quite degrading. They tend to be treated with hostility and suspicion most of the time."

For a supposedly 'advanced' race, the turians has a surprising amount of old-fashioned thinking. Or at least that is my own personal opinion. An opinion I don't think I would be sharing with this guy.

But Garrus catches the small flicker of disbelief mixed with disgust that barely registers on my face. "I know, I know." He sighs. "But it is tradition, and it is a prejudice that has been impounded into our brains for as long as I can remember. And some things are difficult to change."

Nonsensical ideas taught by parents to children? Now _that _is a concept that I am more than familiar with. Change is brought only by those that want to change and I have a feeling that the turians are very much comfortable with their butts high up on the throne.

It is not like the knowledge of this lowers my opinion of turians. It is just that they always display themselves as superior, as more powerful than most other races. Pride, honour, code, all those are part of the backbone that is turian culture. And sure, they do triumph in terms of military power and research. Their hatred for humans is somewhat understandable, especially after the First Contact War, but their hatred for their own? It is almost as bad as how minorities are treated back home, perhaps even worse.

I store this conversation carefully to the back of my mind, reminding myself to explore this topic at a later point of time. I can tell that Garrus is obviously uncomfortable for revealing his species' weakness so I let it go for now.

"It is fine. I was just curious after all." I brush it off. "Do you think we're acquainted enough to start work sometime soon? My body is itching for, _something_."

His mandibles flare, face setting in a turian-version of a grin. "A battle? Now that is something I'm definitely up for. Why not we spar? Get to know each other's abilities?"

A memory hits me and I struggle to keep a straight face. "To test your reach?"

He is slightly cut off guard by that question. "Uhm, yes?"

"And my flexibility?"

He sends me a strange look and I can't help but burst out laughing. Oh Garrus, Garrus, Garrus. These next few years are going to be _fun_.

**_################################################_**

"We never got that spar." I whisper into my mouthpiece.

"_Really? You want to talk about that right now?"_

"Why not? You're not doing anything, I'm not doing anything. And I'm bored."

"_You may not be doing anything, but I am currently trying to keep track of some very dangerous looking krogans. So why not you keep quiet and give me some peace."_

"But Gaaarrruuuusssss. We've been here for hours and not- Oh fuck."

"_What? What?" _There is a pause. _"Sky, this isn't funny, what the hell is going there?"_

"There is a very fine looking guard in a very, very, very tight suit. Damn, look at that ass."

A large sigh of frustration carries across the wavelength. I stifle a giggle. _"Fuck. I am going to KILL you when I see you later."_

"I'm sorry partner, I really couldn't help it."

"_Ever heard of the boy that cried wolf?"_

"Of course I have, I was the one that told you that story remember?"

The moment of silence drags on and all I can hear is static. I shake my head. "Funny Garrus, I'm sorry alright."

More silence. I count to ten. "Garrus?"

Worry starts to coil through me. "Garrus. This isn't funny."

The sick feeling in my stomach tells me that this isn't a joke. I glance over my shoulder. In my position, posing as a civilian lounging on the deck of the hotel I cannot do anything to alert the guards standing around the vicinity.

This is the first job Garrus and I decided to take on together. After two more days of planning and getting to know each other, we deemed ourselves ready to handle something light. And this mission was supposed to be easy. Infiltrate the building, download the plans of this notorious criminal, and get out. Perhaps one of the less 'official' jobs of the CSec; problems only started sprouting up when we realized that said criminal had decided to place said plans in a safe down in the basement. But still, no problemo, I keep an eye on the owner who is currently having dinner not more than fifteen feet away from me whilst Garrus slips downstairs, crack the safe, take what we need and we ciao. It wasn't like this guy was even a big criminal, in fact, he wasn't even high on the C-Sec wanted listed. How he got the money for this room and the guards I have no idea.

"Garrus if you don't reply in the next ten seconds I'm coming down there." I whisper urgently. "Garrus!"

Shit.

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**A mini cliffhanger for you lot. I am honestly not sure if CSec actually authorizes missions like this. I'm trying to imagine how regular police might handle the situation but I realize that they might have different protocol when dealing with known criminals. Your thoughts?**

**Also, what do you think of the conversation flow? It is so difficult evaluating one's writing. For some reason, I can be so much more critical and sharp when I am reading a story written by someone else, but when it comes to my own I sort of just partially fail. Did it seem natural?**

**I can't wait to hear from you.**

**Also, Happy Belated Birthday to me! (It was on the 18th) and a soon-to-come Happy Chinese New Year to all those that celebrate.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you will stay tuned for the next one!**

**Love,**

**Fee**

**xx**


	10. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

I've been thinking about this for quite a while now. I am rather unsatisfied with the way I handled this story, I feel like I rushed through a lot of the parts and messed up a number of things along the way. I don't think it was too bad but eventually I kind of lost my hope that this story written in this way would be any good.

_However,_ I have begun writing another. It falls almost exactly as this one has. Only I have elaborated on parts that I feel require it and I stopped writing in first person. Writing in first person, present tense, as I have mentioned before, was uncomfortable to me anyway and I feel like I could not really show my writing abilities through that.

But anyway, you'll understand what I mean when you read the new fic. I thank you very much for having stuck with me for so long, my loyal reviewers and readers, and I hope you won't chastise me for making this decision. I do apologize for you having to reread all that has happened so I would understand completely if you have given up on me (although I dearly hope not). There _will _be some differences that I feel I need to add so it won't be a total lost.

I hope to see you there!

The new fic is called **Fate Rewritten: Vertigo.**

On a separate note, I just want to thank everyone profusely for sticking with me this long, for reviewing and for subscribing to this story. I would not have got this far without you, and I would not have the intentions to carry this further either.

So thank you thank you thank you.

I hope you continue to stay tuned!

Much love,

Fee


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